


The Final Rose

by LipFreckles5



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Army!Ian, Bachelor AU, M/M, Photographer!Mickey, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-09-22 09:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 73,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LipFreckles5/pseuds/LipFreckles5
Summary: Ian and Mickey go on a reality TV show to find true love, only to fall in love with each other.Bachelor AU





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my dear friend Kait <3 Thank you for the inspiration.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian Gallagher was just lonely and wanted to find true love.  
> Mickey Milkovich just wants something stronger to drink other than champagne.

**Prologue**

**April 2021**

“I can’t believe she fucking picked him,” Mandy scoffed. She shook her head in disgust as she took another drink of her beer. “I mean come on! “Lucas was clearly the better guy. Don’t you think, Mick?”

She looked to her right to see her brother in the chair next to her, his eyes glued to his phone, picking at the label of his beer bottle with his free hand.

“Hey shithead!” “You ever gonna put that thing down?”

Mickey shot his head up, “What?” His eyes flickered towards the TV, then back to his phone, “Yeah Lucas is an asswipe. I could have fucking told you that.”

Mandy rolled her eyes at her brother. Ever since he decided to join the year 2021 and got a by getting a dating app (which, let's be honest, was really just a hookup app for Mickey) , his hands had been glued to his phone. The only time he wasn’t on his phone was when he had his damn fancy ass camera in his hand. At least he was being a bit more sociable now rather than just hiding behind his camera all the time.

Her eyes went back to the TV. As she waited for the ‘After the Rose’ special to begin, a commercial came onto the screen that made her eyes goes wide.

_America, after 24 seasons of the Bachelor and the Bachelorette we have decided to take things up a notch and really give everyone a chance at love. For our 25 th season, for the first time ever in Bachelor and Bachelorette history, we will have our Bachelor… look for his dream man.”_

Mandy’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” She whispered to herself. She glanced over at her brother, who clearly wasn’t paying attention as usual.

“ _We are looking for 25 eligible bachelors for our first Gay Bachelor. If anyone you know is out looking for true love please visit our website to apply at www.abcsthebachelor.com._

Mandy hit Mickey’s head with a pillow, startling her older brother, “Hey are you hearing this?”

Mickey reluctantly looked at the screen, his eyebrows raised, “Wow. Just when I thought this show couldn’t get any fucking gayer, it did.”

“You should sign up.”

“What? Are you high? No fucking way.”

“Oh come on! What if your soul mate is out there Mick?!” You know you aren’t going to find anything serious on that damn app!”

Mickey rolled his eyes as he chugged down the rest of his beer. “Who the fuck said I wanted anything serious? Anyway, gotta go.”

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“Out.”

“With?”

“None of your business, mom!”

“Use protection!” She yelled as the door behind her slammed.

Mandy continued to watch TV for a few more minutes before a thought came to her.

She glanced over at Mickey’s laptop lying on their worn out coffee table. She bit down on her lower lip, her thoughts wandering back to her brother's nonexistent love life.

Where they were from, love wasn’t something they felt very often, if ever. Living under their asshole of a father’s reign was brutal to say the least and the years after their mother had passed he got worse and worse until they both decided enough was enough and fled to New York.

Mandy was able to score a job with a little help from an ex boyfriend, and Mickey finally allowed himself to get back into photography. He ended being noticed by some well known photo editor hot shot, which led to him being a free lance photographer for several magazines.

They had done well for themselves in the past three years, especially for a couple of Milkovichs, but Mandy was tired of her brother only really being happy when he was behind the camera. She was glad that he was at least being more sociable and meeting new people, but he was slowly falling into his same old patterns. He’d meet a guy, have a few drinks, they’d fuck, and then Mickey would leave.

She was hoping by now he would have found a guy that would actually be worth going on a real date with. Why not? She knew a few people that found love online and eventually got married for fucks sake! Maybe he had already met a decent guy but fucked it up because heaven forbid he say more than 10 words to anyone. After all, Mickey was never a talker.

Mandy threw her head back and groaned, why did her brother have to be the most complicated human being?

She looked at the computer and then at their cat Mr. Puss (or as Mickey liked to call him The Devil’s Pussy) who had now reclaimed the top of the lazy boy as his own.

“What do you think Mr. Puss?” She asked as the cat glared at her with one eye open. “Should we do it?”

The cat did nothing but give Mandy his usual pissed off glare. Shaking her head she wondered for a moment why she even brought home that hot mess of a feline in the first place.

With a deep eager breath, she clicked on the internet browser icon.

“Here goes nothing.”

 

 

**September 2021**

Ian Gallagher’s leg couldn’t stop bouncing. He had about an hour left of his flight and he was surprised the kind lady next him hadn’t smacked him with her purse yet. He couldn’t help it. He was about to do the craziest thing he has ever done in his 25 years on earth; go on a reality TV show to meet the man of his dreams.

Yeah sure, it was insane that anyone could fall in love in the short amount of time they were give, but it had happened to others on the show. All these straight couples had a chance at a whirlwind romance so it was about time a high profile reality dating show caters to the gay community. A show that wasn’t complete trash or on a network that barely anyone watched.

It was huge. It was a big deal and it was his chance to find someone that he could truly connect with.

His love life was less than spectacular, to say the least

Growing up in the south side of Chicago wasn’t the most ideal place to be gay. There weren’t many guys his age that were out and proud. Unfortunately, it meant going to a lot of clubs where he was under age. Getting picked up by much older, sometimes, (Almost always) married men that treated him as their best kept secret.

Yeah the restaurants were nice, and the room service was cool, but the sex? Most of the time is was mediocre at best. And once it was time for them to go back to their families, he was forgotten. Just another teenaged twink tossed aside.

So instead of wallowing in self pity, he focused on his dream of escaping the south side for good and joining the Army. Currently he's stationed in Fort Campbell in Kentucky and living his best life possible, away from his family and far, far away from the grey terrain that was the Back of the Yards. He had loved the choice he had made and he loved being a part of something he felt was worthwhile.

The only downside was that he was lonely as fuck.

Most of the people of Fort Campbell didn’t care that he was gay. He had several friends and his roommate included that were really cool about it all. He even went to a club with him once and actually had fun. That’s all everything really was though; fun. It was never anything serious. He’d been on a few dates and tried to get serious with one guy named Peter. But Peter didn't feel the same and freaked out when someone had called Ian his boyfriend, ending their relationship before it really even began.

He was tired, so fucking tired, of being the side piece, the one night stand, the friend with many benefits. He wanted something more, so when his roommate’s girlfriend Kayla had mentioned that The Bachelor was having a gay bachelor for the first time ever he thought, “Why the hell not?” and signed up.

The whole process had taken months; he sent at least a dozen pictures of himself, answered way too many questionnaires and even had Kayla make a damn video about him like the ones they showed in the beginning with all the new contestants. When he made it to what they called the, “final round’ he was sent to New York where he had an official interview with some of the producers on the show. That’s also where he found out exactly who the new Bachelor was going to be.

His name was Andrew “Drew” Parker and he came from a wealthy family in Boston. They owned a successful fishing company located all throughout the east coast. When Ian was shown his picture his heart sped up instantly. Sure the guy was extremely attractive but his reaction was because this shit was actually happening. He guy in the picture wanted the exact things he did.

He just had to fight twenty nine other men for him.

The word crazy didn’t begin to describe it, yet here he was, landing in California, making his way to the hotel where all the other bachelors were told to meet. He was told that he didn’t have to do one of those “special introductions” where he had to wear a unicorn head or a fucking shark costume. Instead the producers want him to be a part of what they called the “limo bachelors,” where their good looks alone should be enough to make him memorable.

“The audience is going to just love your hair,” Swooned one the ladies in the final meetings, “I mean who doesn’t have a thing for redheads?”

He wasn’t going to lie and say all the attention he seemed to be receiving was overwhelming, it absolutely was, but growing up being the middle child, you learn to appreciate the extra attention.

He finally arrived at the hotel around 6 PM, immediately being told to go straight to his room and talk to no one. He was to get ready and be down in the lobby by no later than 8PM. They didn’t want any of the bachelors to see or interact with each other; all the reactions and emotions had to be fresh and raw. He grabbed his two large suitcases and made his way into his room.

 

The room was spacious and obnoxiously decorated with pastel paintings and outdated wall paper, but Ian couldn’t help but feel guilty for being in such nice place for a short amount of time. The south sider in him was dying to know how much a place like this cost a night. Laying his stuff on the bed, he saw the room service menu on the middle bedside table. He flipped through it briefly before decided he was too nervous to actually eat anything. He showered quickly, trying not to think too hard about what was coming and got dressed.

When he arrived in the lobby at 8 on the dot, to find it packed with men, Ian’s heart began to race.

Oh fuck. This is it. He is really fucking doing this.

“Hi. Name please,” a squeaky voice asked from behind him. He turned around to see a short women peering up at him over her glasses.

“Uh, I’m Ian.”

“You have a last name Ian? And are you a part of the show?”

“Uh yeah. Yeah I am. It’s Gallagher. Ian Gallagher.”

The women scanned the list on her clip board, scrawling something next to his name. “Ah okay. You need to go over to group three.” She pointed towards the center of the lobby where two other guys were already standing, chatting idly with each other.

Ian took a deep breath and wandered over the group. One of the guys noticed him approaching and greeted him with a warm smile.

“Hey! You must be another competitor,” the guy said boldly as he stuck out his hand. Ian hoped his hands weren’t too sweaty as he reached out to shake the guy’s hand.

“Yeah, name’s Ian.”

“Kyle,” the guy replied and bumped shoulders with the guy next to him, “and this is Nick.”

“You’re cute for a ginger, you gonna try to steal Drew’s heart as well as his soul?” Nick asked, laughing. All Ian could do was roll his eyes, “Great! The ginger jokes are already starting.”

“Hey sorry. I make really stupid jokes when I’m nervous.”

“He just says stupid shit all the time,” Kyle laughed, bumping his shoulder into Nick’s. Nick didn’t return the smile, instead giving Ian a sidelong glance.

“Do… did you guys know each other before this or?” Asked Ian.

“Nope just met,” Nick replied, taking a swig of champagne and giving Ian a wink.

Ian didn’t have time to respond, his group was called and they were joined by two more guys, Aaron and Theo. They were given instructions and informed that they would each be doing an individual interview before they got in the limo, their entire journey to the house being captured by the cameras.

Ian groaned inwardly. He knew the interview process would be abundant during the show, but it reminded him of the crew of camera men that showed up at his door as well as his “assistant” to film his introduction video. It took six hours just to film the damn thing and was probably one of the cringeiest experiences of his life. He grimaced at the memory of jogging shirtless up and down a wooded trail. It took almost forty-five minutes to film, the crew wanting to get the perfect shot of his sweat slicked skin (which was actually just oil an overenthusiastic aid rubbed on him) and bright red hair shining in the sun.

“All right,” the women from before started. “Gallagher you are up first please go down this hall and take a right.”

Ian swallowed as he made his way down the hall, anxiety starting to overwhelm him. He knew the matchmaking was all about the show but he really wished he could just meet Drew already and maybe eat something without feeling like he would puke

He walked into what appeared to be a conference room, split in half by a giant dark red curtain with a singular chair in the middle.. He rubbed his sweaty hands on his pant suit and tried to smile at the bored camera man.

“Oh my gosh Ian!” screeched a voice from beside him. He recognized the voice belonging to the girl he had his final interview with, the one with the red head fetish.

“Oh hey…there,” He smiled, hoping she didn’t notice that he couldn’t remember her name.

“Olivia, remember? I did your final interview?”

“Oh yeah,” He said laughing, “Of course.”

“Okay so what I am going to have you do is just be yourself. Just tell us how excited you are to meet Drew and tell us again why you think he’s the perfect guy for you.”

The atmosphere in the limo was awkwardly quiet ; the nerves had started to settle in and were intensifying as the approach the man they would all be dating. Even Kyle was silent, and Ian truly didn’t think the man he knew how to stop talking. They were also instructed not to say much to each other and certain topics were banned. At one point during the limo ride they were told to laugh at nothing. Just one big awkward group laugh at nothing before they were handed six glasses of champagne and were told to toast to Drew.

When they arrived just a half mile outside of the mansion, the limo pulled to the side of the road. Olivia, their producer and designated instructor, started talking again almost immediately.

“Okay so the order will be Nick, Aaron, Kyle, Theo and then you Ian, the grand finale of this limo!”

 

She flashed him a smile which made Ian extremely uncomfortable. He tried to avoid the varying looks of annoyance and anger the other men were giving him.

 

After what felt like hours of ridiculously detailed instructions the limo pulled up into the driveway. Ian’s heart was booming as they turned the corner.

The driveway was lined with palm trees. White string lights wrapped around each and everyone one. Ian caught a quick glance of the enormous mansion but was instantly distracted by the person standing in front of it waiting for him. Waiting for them.

His pictures didn’t do him justice; Drew Parker was one of the most gorgeous men Ian had ever seen. He stood waiting in a simple three piece suit, a excited grin on his face. Drew was talking to the camera as they drove up and Ian watched as he sighed nervously when they approached.

“Okay we’re on,” Olivia announced. She gave a thumbs up to the camera man and then turned to Nick, who was sweating profusely. “You ready?”

 

One by one they all excited the limo, each taking about ten minutes just to leave. They all had to give Olivia an idea of what they were going to say to Drew and she would give it her approval or suggest something else. Once it was Ian’s turn Olivia turned to him, flashing him a smile that made his stomach turn.

“This season is going to be so interesting with you in it. Go get him tiger!”

Ian couldn’t take waiting any longer. Without saying another word he exited the limo and made eye contact with Drew for the first time.

 

Fuck, this was really happening. His heart was hammering so loud he briefly wondered if the mics would pick it up. He had thought he would have trouble not looking at the cameras that were following him but Drew’s enthusiastic smile and adrenaline kept him moving forward.

He doesn’t remember if he or Drew spoke first, or what exactly was said. All he knew is that he was standing right in front of Drew hand in hand.

“Wow,” exclaimed Drew, reaching a hand up to trace Ian's lapel. “You’re just… just wow.”

Ian tried to not think too much about the blood rushing up his neck and gave Drew his best smile, “Thanks. Uh back at ya. My name’s Ian.”

“Well, Ian, it’s REALLY nice to meet you. I hope we get to talk more.”

“I hope so too,” Ian replied, taking it upon himself to give Drew a kiss on the cheek. They exchanged bashful smiles before Ian walked past him and into the mansion. As soon as he turned the corner he let out a huge sigh of relief and leaned back on the stone wall of the entrance.

He was overwhelmed just from their introduction. How he was going to survive any of this?

Inside the mansion there were only ten other men, he and the guys he drove in with. The front room was covered in what appeared to be a thousand candles, and a roaring fireplace in the corner giving the room a warm, romantic glow. Every man in the room had some type of drink in their hand. Kyle, of course, was leading the conversation, boasting about how he and Drew would look so good on one of Drew’s Daddy’s boats. Ian couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.

There was one man off to the side, ignoring Kyle completely so Ian decided to approach him.

“Hey. I’m Ian,” he stated with a slight wave.” What's your name?”

The curly haired brunette with ridiculously bushy eyebrows smiled warmly at him, “Oh its Tre-“

“Dude, fucking save me from this guy,” Nick exclaimed, shoving another champagne flute into Ian’s hands. “I swear he hasn’t stopped talking since I met him.”

“Yeah he seems kind of full of himself,” replied the short nameless bushy eye browed man.

Ian shrugged, not really bothered by Kyle’s mannerisms. He was trying his best to remain on the down low and scope out the competition. He knew guys like Kyle, their brashness was all for show. He was just trying to intimidate the others.

Ian stayed to himself and watched as one by one more men begin to fill the room. Some groups came in limos like him. Others did more dramatic entrances such as the one guy who was currently walking around in a eggplant emoji costume. Eggplant guy was laughing with the man who was dressed as a knight and had arrived on a horse.

Ian counted almost twenty five guys when he was distracted by the roar of a motorcycle outside. He glanced out of the bay window, others joining him to get a closer look.

The man was dressed in black jeans, a leather jacket and black motorcycle boots. His hair had no product in it and even from the distance Ian could see tattoos adorning his knuckles.

None of the men in the room compelled Ian enough to actually pay much attention but the guy outside was a different story. Ian was finding it near impossible to look away, his gaze locked on the leather clad man like a magnet.

“Show off,” A voice from behind him muttered.

“Dude he’s hot.”

“If I hear you call me dude one more time...”

“He’s not as hot as Drew.-no one is as hot as Drew.”

Ian wished he could agree with whoever had said that, but for the first time that evening his eyes didn’t drift automatically to Drew.

Fuck.

Drew and Mystery Man’s meeting was short. No hug, no kiss, just a small exchange of words. Ian watched as Mystery Man pulled on his lower lip with his thumb, almost as if he was trying to hide a smile from whatever Drew had said. Ian had to stop himself from bringing his own thumb to his lip.

Ian and the group of men inside watched as Mystery Man flung open both of the mansion's front doors, his eyes immediately taking in the room. He walked towards the table where the champagne sat and scoffed. “Would it fucking kill them to have some beer around here? Fucking tired of this bubbly shit.”

One of the camera assistants cautiously approached the Mystery Man, and whispered something into his ear.

The man raised his eyebrows at her and scoffed, “Listen lady there weren’t any fucking rules on how many times I’m allowed to swear a night. Is there some kind of fucking swear jar I need to put my money into? Shit.”

Ian brought his champagne flute to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, as the girl scampered away from the vulgar man.

“I think we’re supposed to be nice to the crew” Ian stated as he found the courage to approach the guy.

The brunette mystery man turned around, his blue eyes dragging slowly up and down Ian's body. He could feel his ears go red.

“You gotta problem Red?” he asked taking a long swig of from the flute.

Ian had to tear his eyes away from the guys bobbing adam’s apple, “Uh no. Sorry I was just saying-“

“Look, you don’t need to worry about me okay? Don’t need your Raggedy Ann ass telling me what to do.”

Ian’s brow furrowed, taken back by the man’s demeanor. “Don’t worry I won’t. Jesus I was just saying-“

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” A voice boomed from behind them, interrupting him

All the men fell quiet, turning to look AT Chris Harrison standing in the center of the foyer.

“Drew has finished greeting everyone. He is about to enter and hopefully you all will have the chance to get to know him. Are all you fine gentlemen ready for Drew?”

A cheer and applause erupted throughout the house; amongst it Ian could hear the faintest “fucking Christ” coming from the mystery man behind him.

“Well here's your chance,” continued Chris. “Remember the first impression rose is up for grabs, gentlemen.” There was a long drawn out pause before he finally spoke again.

“Without further ado, here is your Bachelor, Drew Parker!”

There was another cheer as Drew entered the room. Ian joined in on the clapping and his heart began to race again as he was reminded why he was here and who he was here for.

He cast a sidelong glance at the brunette who much to his surprise was looking right back at him. The corner of his lip curled upwards as he took a sip from his second champagne glass.

“Game on Red.”


	2. The First Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years Eve everyone!! I hope you all had a great holiday!
> 
> Here is chapter two. Of course it has been inspired and beta'd by Kait <3

Mickey needed a fucking cigarette. There were too many people around, cameras in everybody’s faces and more gayness than one of the shitty ass clubs back in Boystown.

His hand moved towards his pocket of his leather jacket where he could feel the cardboard of his smokes protruding through.

“Thank fuck,” he sighed, reaching down through his pockets. He looked around the room quickly realizing he didn’t bring a light. He stopped a short mousey looking waitress carrying a tray of something that looked way too fancy and way too fucking expensive for his taste. Probably tasted like shit too.

“Garlic Chicken Kiev Balls?” The waitress asked all too cheerfully.

“Gar-Kiev –balls what?” stuttered Mickey, “Uh no do you have a light?”

The girl cocked her eyebrow, “A light?”

“Yeah a light, you know,” explained Mickey waving his hand in the air, “to smoke?”

The girl stared at him blankly for a moment before realization hit her, “Oh!” She exclaimed, shaking her head, “You aren’t allowed to smoke while the cameras are running, also it has to be outside.”

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This place was already giving him a headache or maybe it was the shitty champagne. “Well then do you have anything other than the fizzy piss water you’re serving?”

The girl let out a huff of annoyance, “I can get you some whiskey if you would like.”

“That would be fantastic,” said Mickey mirroring her tone. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes the girl stomped away, tray in hand. “Thank you!” Mickey called back at her, shaking his head. How could he be polite to these fucks if they walked around with tree trunks up their asses?

He stuffed his smokes deeper into his pockets trying his best to ignore the way his fingers twitched for them. He was supposed to be quitting anyways and he couldn’t pick a worse time to try than going on national TV.

Much to his surprise the mousey waitress, whose personality did not match her looks in anyway, brought him a glass filled with the amber liquid he was so desperately craving.

“Thanks,” He muttered taking the glass off her tray. He gave her his best smile as she stomped away miserably again, obviously wondering what her life was coming too.

And in all honesty, Mickey could relate.

He took a swig of his drink; he could feel his nerves begin to ease as the cool liquid burned down this throat.

He took another look around, still baffled as to how he got here. How Mandy had practically tricked him into coming and all but dragged him through the airport to security.

Thankfully, the Bachelor wasn’t so hard on the eyes so Mickey supposed that was a plus.

He walked over towards the corner of the massive room, out of sight of the imposing cameramen. He watched as half of the guys did their best to throw themselves at Drew, while others stood back; watching, waiting or too star struck to talk to the guy.

The guy wasn’t even famous; his family just owned a lot of boats and had a lot of money because of it.

Okay, maybe Mickey couldn’t say anything. He was basically hiding out in the corner doing the same damn thing half of the room was doing. He glanced down at his tattooed laden knuckles as a wave of unease washed through him. He remembered in the semi final interviews the blonde haired bitch asked if he would like them to pay to have his knuckle tattoos removed.

At first he considered it, not just for the show but for his future in general; thinking about how many more photography gigs he could score if those constant reminders of his fucked up past would be zapped off with a laser. As he looked down at his knuckles in that conference room four months ago, he remembered the sequence of events and feelings he felt about his tatted hands.

He was fifteen when he got them and he never felt more bad ass. They were his signature, the last thing a douche bag that owed his dad money saw before he laid it into him. They made him proud, they made his dad proud. It wasn’t until he was eighteen when the thought of making his dad proud made him sick.

He had tried to scrub the ink off. Even took a blade to them once, he still had the smallest scar on the first “U” on this left hand. But he couldn’t do it;; he was a coward, just like his father said he was.

That was the night he swore he would never be like his father and wouldn’t allow his branded skin to define him.

So he told the blonde hair bitch to fuck off, said it was all a part of this charm. This was music to her ears apparently. The chick’s view on things was seriously fucked.

Still, even though he learned to accept the ink, there was no way a guy like Drew would even give him a second glace... or so he thought.

He wasn’t blind and he certainly knew that others found him attractive; he just didn’t think a guy from a family worth millions would even give him the time of day. Maybe it was the motor cycle or maybe it was his all black attire, but he saw the way Drew looked at him when he jumped off the bike, the spark in his eye or whatever the fuck people called it.

It was there though, Mickey could see it, fuck he even felt it. The butterflies in his stomach that had taken a sabbatical woke up and dusted off their wings as soon as Drew smiled at Mickey for the first time.They were still fluttering around for several minutes after they parted ways in the drive way.

The annoying winged insects were back at it as he watched Drew speak to a group of guys. One dude already irritating him with his cocky ass grin and the other barely even deserved a second look.

He chewed his lower lip nervously as he contemplated his next move. He was about to go break up the little pow-wow Drew was having with the nobodies until the flash of fiery red hair caught his eye.

He had seen Red staring at him in the window, with his dark navy suit and matching tie and had most likely scared him off earlier by the bar, which made Mickey smile. These losers were going to be way too easy for him if they all acted like Red.

He allowed his eyes to travel up and down Red one more time. Not denying that the man was incredibly good looking, he noticed quickly that the aggravating insects seemed to be fluttering quicker the more he looked at Red, so he averted his gaze and ignored the intense knot that was forming in the pit of his stomach. Taking one last sip of his whiskey he looked around to see where he could place his now empty glass and decided that the pot of the plant he was standing by would be sufficient enough.

_These fuckers need to get their hands dirty anyways._ He thought as he allowed his new found buzz to instill enough confidence in him to go and make his first move.

 

* * *

 

 

The number of camera’s Ian saw multiplied instantly as soon as Harrison made the announcement of Drew’s entrance. He watched as several crew members dressed up as waiters walked around with silver trays filled with even more champagne flutes and small appetizers.

“They do that so they can keep their eyes on us,” he heard someone say from behind him. He turned to see one of the guys he rode in with, Theo, looking over at the waiters as well.

“Keep their eyes on us?” Ian questioned.

“Yeah, they got to keep us in check,” Theo explained, handing Ian another glass of champagne, even though Ian wasn’t sure he could handle anymore of the bubbly substance. “They want to know who the villains are, the softies, the sluts and who the hubby materials are.”

“Hubby material?” sputtered Ian, almost spilling half his drink out.

“Yeah man, did anyone tell you how this show really works?” Theo asked. “We are all labeled before we even get here and as time goes on they may change our labels and therefore try to manipulate us for good story telling.”

Ian huffed out a laugh, flabbergasted. “I guess all those ridiculous questionnaires make sense now.”

Theo shook his head as he continued to look around the room with Ian.“The things we do to find true love, right?”

“Right,” agreed Ian as he thought hell with it all and chugged the last bit of his drink. He saw Mystery Man walk across the room, paying no one any mind as he approached Drew with confidence and ease. The leather clad guy did the same half smile he did when Ian first saw him and tilted his head turned towards the patio, where Drew happily nodding and, ushering him to lead the way. Two camera men were at their side in record time and the Mystery Man made sure to show exactly how he felt about the both of them. Drew continued to gaze at him in wonder; not realizing he wasn’t the only one doing so.

“So you think he’s like the bad boy or something?” Ian asked watching as Mystery Man and Drew walked through the glass French doors onto the patio.

“Motorcycle guy?” asked Theo. “Oh most definitely, he’s going to be trouble.”

Ian could only nod at that. Mystery Man was something that’s for sure.

 

As the night continued, the more chaotic things became. Ian barely saw Drew as people like Nick and, evidently, the guy in the eggplant costume, were as aggressive as they come and were constantly interrupting other contestants as they tried to speak with Drew.

“I can’t believe I just got cock blocked by a guy in an eggplant costume,” Kyle complained, shaking his head in disgust. “I mean the nerve some of these guys have.”

Ian was about to respond to him but one of the waitresses pulled Kyle aside, most likely to get an interview with him.

“You doing okay, sweetie?” another chick in a cocktail waitress uniform asked. “Can I get you something to drink perhaps? I know the first night is always the most nerve wracking.”

Ian smiled sweetly at her, shaking his half filled glass. “No thanks, I’m good.”

The waitress warmly smiled back at him before she leaned in closer, her voice at a whisper. “I’m just saying, the cocktail party is set to be over in two hours if I were you I’d get talking to Drew.”

Ian nodded graciously, “I know, I know.” He bit his lower lip as he looked back at where Drew was now sitting with Eggplant Man.

“You can do it, go get him. I have no doubt you are better than some guy that had to dress up in a cheesy costume.” She finished trailing her eyes over Ian, making him even more uncomfortable.

He nodded averting his eyes from her, “Yeah, okay, okay I’ll go.” He didn’t give her time to finish as he knew there was no time like the present.

He straightened out his tie, which felt like it was becoming tighter by the second, and strolled over to where Drew was sitting.

“Hey,” Ian greeted. He looked directly at Drew, hoping he was oozing the confidence he was totally faking at the moment. “Can I steal you for a second?”

Drew looked up, his dazzling features sending jolts through Ian’s body. “Yeah, of course.” He looked towards eggplant man with an apologetic smile, “Excuse us, Grant, we’ll catch up later, okay?”

Eggplant man or Grant, apparently, groaned almost comically, “Fine, see you later Drew.” He gave Ian the stink eye as he struggled to get off the couch with his outlandish costume. Drew gracefully helped Grant up before he stalked off with a scowl upon his face.

Drew turned his attention back to Ian. “Shall we go outside?”

Ian nodded. Two camera men instantly began closing in on them, nerves starting to bundle up in the pit of Ian's stomach as they walked outside. He did his best to keep his eyes forward and willed himself into believing that it was just the two of them out there, alone.

It was a cool, clear night in California. The sky was pitch black with no stars to be seen, the lights of the mansion blocking them out.

“Beautiful night huh?” asked Drew, staring up at the sky along with Ian.

“Yeah, it is,” Ian said, fighting to think of what to say. He felt like an idiot with his tongue tied up in knots.

“It’s probably snowing in Boston right now; never know exactly what the weather is ever going to be like up there.”

“Yeah you can’t really count on Kentucky weather either, one moment it’s a blizzard and then next thing you know everyone is wearing shorts because its seventy-five degrees and sunny outside.”

Drew laughed warmly at Ian’s comment, making him feel more at ease.

_Okay_ , _this isn’t so bad,”_ Ian thought to himself, he could do this. His eyes flickered back to the camera guy who attempted to give him an encouraging nod but it did nothing for the hot prickling feeling on the back of his neck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Drew asked, his brows furrowing. “You seem a little tense.”

“Yeah,” gulped Ian, mentally kicking himself for sounding so pathetic. “It’s just the camera’s… I guess I’m not used to them.” Drew wrapped his arm around his shoulders, “Don’t worry you will be. Before you know it you’ll forget they’re even there.”

_Doubt it_. “Yeah,” Ian sighed, slightly leaning into Drew’s side.

They walked to the far corner of the backyard by the pool area and continued to small talk. It was getting easier as the minutes went by and Ian realized that he had Drew to thank for that. His self confidence was contiguous and Ian found himself unexpectedly at ease with the bachelor. However, the comfortable conversation was quickly interrupted when they both heard someone yell out.

“Hey!”

Ian turned to see the silhouette of Mystery Man walking towards them, a intense look in his eyes and a cocky smirk. Ian felt his blood warm in irritation. _This guy had already talked to him_ _what the hell?_

“Hey Mickey!” waved Drew, smiling at the dark haired man. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Mickey said, his eyes flickering towards Ian’s, his smirk turning to a full on grin. “I think ginger’s time here is up.”

“I just got here!” argued Ian. “You already had your turn, you can wait!”

He watched as Mystery Man—, er, Mickey, folded his arms against his chest, his eyebrows raised. “I don’t want to wait; I want to talk to Drew.”

Ian’s fist clenched as he glared at the smug asshole, he felt a gentle hand go on his knee.

“Let me talk to Mickey a little okay, Ian?” requested Drew, giving his thigh a squeeze. “I’m sure there will be more time tonight.”

Ian sighed heavily, defeated and not wanting to make a scene. He got up, smirking back at Mickey as he gave Drew a swift kiss on the cheek.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Time’s a ticking Red.”

“I’m going,” Ian snapped back, his ears betraying him as they grew bright red at Mickey’s chuckling.

He began to walk back towards the house but quickly turned around to look back at the two men. Mickey had taken his seat on the bench, and Drew was whispering into his ear. Ian couldn’t help but watch the interaction with intrigue. Underneath the façade of confidence Mickey seem to have ever since Ian first saw him earlier that night, he could still make out how apprehensive Mickey looked while speaking to Drew, his once sure smile now a soft smirk. And fuck, was the guy _blushing_?

Ian felt something bloom inside him. It was both hot as it was cold and all around confusing. He couldn’t stop staring at the dark haired brunette and as much as he tried to look at Drew, Mickey’s soft features dragged him back in. He watched as Mickey slid his hand onto Drew’s thigh, Ian's eyes slowly locking onto Drew as a hot pang of jealousy stabbed him to his core.

He just didn’t know what or who he was he jealous of.

Then, as if the universe was against him, he saw Drew take a red rose out of his jacket pocket and hand it to Mickey.

The first impression rose. The fucker got the first impression rose and Ian wasn’t even mad about it. Fuck he was an asshole, but deep down Ian knew Mickey probably deserved it.

No. Mickey _did_ deserve it, but Ian was still going to wallow.

He looked away quickly because more crew men were coming out. One swept Mickey away the brunette bitching about it the whole time.

Ian began to walk back into the house, instantly being bombarded by Olivia and her posse of camera people.

“Hey Ian,” she said, smiling as she tentatively wrapped her hand around his bicep. “Can I have a moment with you?” She titled her head towards the other side of the yard to where a big white sheet cascaded over a wall, blinding lights shining upon it.

“Yeah,” muttered Ian, knowing his turn for an interview was coming but resenting the hell out of it. He reluctantly followed Olivia to the set area and took his seat in the uncomfortable director’s chair.

“So Ian,” Olivia began way too cheerfully, “What did you think of Drew?”

Ian tugged at his shirt collar, the hot lights shining intensely on him. “Well, he seems nice, ya know wish I had more time to get to know him.”

Olivia nodded vigorously, “Oh yeah it must have sucked for Mickey to have interrupted you two like that.”

Ian shrugged. It may have annoyed him at the time but in reality it was to be expected. Mickey just seemed to be the type of guy who goes after what he wants; he wasn’t going to shame the guy for that.

He was still an asshole, though something in the back of his mind told him to keep that thought to himself.

“I mean everyone should get a chance to talk to him, it’s kind of overwhelming you know? I’m sure I’ll get another chance tonight.”

Olivia gasped and placed her hand on Ian’s knee. “But not everyone is _you,_ Ian,” she gave his knee a little squeeze and smiled up at him. “You deserve to have Drew’s full attention, not somebody in a costume or some guy with knuckle tattoos.” She said the last bit with slight tone of repulsion in her voice which only irritated Ian. Why the fuck should anyone care if the guy has knuckle tattoos or not?

Ian steadied his breathing, hoping it wasn't showing that he was becoming heated. He raised his eyebrows in false confusion, “I guess I think everybody deserves a chance…at least…at first.”

Olivia signaled over to the camera guy to quit recording and leaned over even closer to Ian, her bosom brushing against his chest.

“Look Ian, you don’t have to be so humble. People are going to love you anyways. It’s okay to have some friendly competition, you know?” She glanced back at the camera guy who began recording again.

Ian stared at her, confirming that she was hoping for a completely different reaction from him.

“Can you just do me a favor?” Olivia asked, leaning back into her chair, her lips puckered into a pout. “Can you say the last thing you said but a little bit more confident this time?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip, contemplating. He wasn’t going to trash somebody who truly didn’t do anything to him. Olivia was right, it was a competition, but he refused to be the bad guy here. Taking a deep breath, he looked straight at the camera and put on his best genuine smile. “Everybody deserves a chance here,” he started, internally cringing at what he was about to finish with, “I’m going to get plenty time with Drew, I just know it.”

Olivia let out a shriek of joy, “Perfect! You’re just perfect Ian, thank you, you may go now.”

Ian leapt out of the chair and ran back into the house; he could not get out of there fast enough.

 

* * *

 

 

The sky outside was turning periwinkle as the first sign of sunrise cascaded over the house. Exhaustion was seeping over the men in the room as they all gathered around the foyer, taking their respective places.

Ian took his place on top of the stairs and close to the middle, per Olivia’s “suggestion” of course. He was beginning to feel his anxiety reach its max as his eyes found the small round table in the middle of the foyer. On top of the table laid the reason for his nervousness: nineteen red roses. Six of them were going home tonight.

In hindsight he shouldn’t be worried. Olivia assured him that he would make it far in the show and that he was exactly Drew’s “type” or whatever. That didn’t ease his nerves though; he barely had anytime with Drew tonight and quite frankly the moment they had was awkward as fuck. Two steps below him and tucked into the corner he could see Mickey, the first impression rose tucked neatly into his lapel, a striking red against his all black attire.

Ian couldn’t deny that Mickey was one of the most gorgeous guys he had ever laid eyes on. Fuck, the majority of the guys in this room were attractive. If the producers had any doubt that they had found the twenty six most eligible gay bachelors, including Drew, in the United States, they didn’t have it now.

Yet, there was just something about Mickey that Ian was drawn to. It was crazy because he was certain he and Mickey had never met before but the blue eyed man seemed so familiar, so much like home. His real home, on the Southside.

The brunette must have realized that someone was staring at him because he looked over his shoulder before Ian could look away, their eyes instantly locking. Ian was expecting a snarky remark or a “what are you looking at?” if anything. But the brunette casually raked his eyes over Ian’s body before locking with his own once more, swiping his thumb across his lower lip like Ian had noticed he had done with Drew earlier.

All Ian could do was arch his eyebrow in confusion as the brunette casually looked back ahead, as if it was nothing at all, leaving Ian bemused. It was most likely nothing, everyone here had too much to drink tonight, and maybe the shorter man’s mind was buzzing as much as Ian’s.

_He was looking straight at me though_. Ian thought to himself, coming to the realization that the only person Mickey had interacted with besides Drew that night was him.

Ian shook his head at his own thoughts, it probably meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. Both of them were there for one guy and one guy only. They all were, but it couldn’t hurt to look at the others, could it? As long as none of the crew or cameras caught any of it, what was the big deal?

The low groan of the giant French door opening revealed Chris Harrison and Drew. As they approached Drew’s grin was wide but Ian could see the smallest hint of weariness as the cameramen drew in closer. It settled Ian’s beating heart a little to know that he was nervous too.

He heard a voice in the background signaling Chris could begin talking. Ian watched as the host began repeating the lines he had said so many times before.

“Gentlemen! Good evening,” he greeted, his voice echoing throughout the entire room. The bachelors murmured their greetings in return.

“It has been a fun night but now it is time for Drew to choose who he wants to stay and continue this journey with him and who is going home.. Before you are nineteen roses, receive a rose and you get to continue the journey as well. If you do not receive a rose than I am sorry, the journey is over for you.”

There was a long pause. Too long in all honesty. Some of the guys were starting to shuffle their feet in anticipation, a few looked like they were about to pass out from exhaustion. Through the elongated windows, Ian could see the slightest hint of daylight.

“The only one guaranteed a spot here tonight, is Mickey, who won the first impression rose,” announced the host. One camera turned and panned towards Mickey, whose face remained impassive.

Chris cleared his throat, a camera panning back onto him. He turned to Drew who turned towards him as well.

Chris motioned towards the roses, “Drew, when you’re ready.”

Ian watched as Drew took a deep breath. There was another long pause as he looked out at the twenty five bachelors. For a fleeting moment their eyes locked and Ian felt his stomach do a somersault.

“I’d like to thank each and every one you for coming here, I’m really excited to get to know you all,” Drew said. He looked down at the roses for some time and then back up at the bachelors. “With that being said,” he picked up the first rose and called out the first name, “Michael K.”

The man next to him dressed in a simple black and white tuxedo smiled graciously as he strutted towards Drew.

“Michael, will you accept this rose?” asked Drew.

And the names kept coming, next was Nick, Kyle and then Grant, who all about tripped in his eggplant costume and then two more guys including the germaphobe, Jerry.

Jerry delicately took his rose and politely refused a kiss on the cheek from Drew.

“Unbelievable,” muttered Michael K, bumping shoulders with Ian.

There was another long pause as Drew’s eyes traced the room and landed on Ian. Ian couldn’t help but notice how his grin became wider as their eyes connected.

“Ian.”

Ian let how a breath he was sure he had held the whole ceremony, as he brushed past the gentlemen in front of him towards Drew. All his nervousness faded as Drew took his hand, warm and soft beneath his own. It was comforting; everything about Drew Parker was so reassuring and safe. It was something Ian rarely knew anything about growing up in Canaryville. It made him crave more of the warm and fuzzy feelings he felt pulsing through him right now.

“Ian, will you accept this rose?” Drew asked giving Ian’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Without skipping a beat, Ian said, “Absolutely.”

He gave Drew a peck on the cheek, allowing it to linger maybe one second longer than he should have and took his place back up on the stairs with his rose neatly placed in his lapel.

After receiving the rose, things began to pick up pretty quickly. The final two roses went to Theo, who looked like he was about to piss himself with excitement, and then some skinny, flamboyant guy named Evan.

There are several great sighs of reliefs, nervous laughs and somewhere across the room someone sobbing. Some of the rejected bachelors descended from the stairs to say their goodbyes to Drew, a few stormed past him, furious. One camera man chased the bushy eye browed brunette who turned around and began to yell at the camera in a fit of rage.

“This is bullshit!” Ian heard the man scream from outside, “I’m the best damn candidate there is! I work with homeless gay kids! No one else is as good of a person as I am! How dare he not choose me! How dare him!”

“Some one’s a bit dramatic,” Michael K whispered into Ian’s ear.

“He didn’t even talk to Drew,” chimed in Theo from beside Ian. “He kept saying Drew should come to him because he was the real catch here. Arrogant much?”

“Seems like just another piece of trash honestly,” shrugged Michael

“Gentlemen!” interrupted Chris, now standing in the middle of the foyer. “Can we all gather around here for a toast?”

“I swear,” sighed Theo, “after tonight I don’t ever want to taste that bubbly crap again.”

“Ditto,” muttered Ian, walking down to join the rest of the men. He grabbed his champagne flute and felt the magnitude of the evening wash over him. Outside the sky was now a pale blue.

“Men, I know I have already said this,” began Drew, “But I am truly excited to get to know you all and I hope to find my soul mate in the process.” He reached down taking his own glass before hoisting it up in the air. “This is for all of you wonderful men and to the adventure we are about to embark upon. Cheers!!”

 

* * *

 

 

Ian tugged off his tie as he entered the room he would be staying in the next few weeks, the clock on the bedside table reading 6:54 AM. His body was tense with exhaustion and he couldn’t wait to dive into the self claimed comfortable bed that was up against the far wall by the room’s singular window. There were two other beds in the large bedroom. One was across from his bed closer to the patio doors while the third was closer to the bedroom door.

He had told Theo, who was still downstairs doing an interview that he could room with him not thinking that they would have to share with a third. He rubbed his eyes lazily hoping it wasn’t Kyle or germaphobe Jerry…

“What’s up Red?”

His eyes snapped open and his mind went blank as Mickey strolled into the room. He looked back and forth between the two empty beds. Ian watched as Mickey walked over to the bed that was across from him. He turned back to face Ian, his eyebrows raised.

“Mind if I take this one?”

“Uh,” Ian swallowed looking at the window as Mickey began to take his jacket off exposing a tight, black v-neck underneath. “Yeah sure.”

“Cool,” Mickey said, taking off his jeans. Ian all but broke the skin of his lower lip, trying his absolute best to not stare at the brunette’s thick, muscular thighs.

_Fuck Fuck Fuck_

_This is ridiculous_ , Ian thought to himself as he took off his suit jacket, purposefully keeping his eyes on the window. _All the guys here are hot and you aren’t even here for any of them anyways so stop it._

He got undressed facing away from Mickey who remained quiet the entire time. Only when Ian turned around did he realized it was because Mickey was sound asleep in his bed.

He didn’t even look like the same person, his stony expression now relaxed and soft, quiet snores coming out of him.

_Holy fuck get it together Gallagher. Now you’re watching the damn guy sleep?!_

Thankfully before Ian could turn into that creepy ass vampire from that weird movie, Theo walked into the room.

“Someone’s out cold,” Theo laughed softly motioning his head towards Mickey.

“Yeah,” yanking his eyes away from the brunette’s bed once more, “I don’t blame him, this is fucking exhausting.”

“First night always takes the longest,” Theo said as he begun to change out of his clothes, “It goes by quicker the more time goes on.”

Ian raised his eyebrow. “You sure do know a lot about this stuff.”

Theo shrugged as he slid into his bed. “My mom and twin sister are obsessed with the show. We only had one TV in the house growing up so I had nothing better to do than to watch it with them.”

Ian was about to respond until an annoyed groan erupted from the other side of the room.

“You assholes done with your little chit chat?” Mickey grumbled, barely audible as his head was squished into a pillow, “I’m trying to fucking sleep.”

Both Ian and Theo quietly apologized, Ian diving into his own bed as he did. The bed squeaked and Ian could have sworn he heard Mickey let out an aggravated huff.

“Sorry,” Ian whispered into the darkness but he was only met with the quiet snores of the passed out man. He closed his heavy eyelids and allowed the gentle noises coming from across the room to lull him to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Ian....you're doomed.
> 
> Thank you for reading! leave a comment or a kudo to let me know what you think. :)
> 
> Love,
> 
> Ally


	3. Week One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual this work was beta'd and inspired by my dear friend Kait <3
> 
> All the positive feedback you guys are giving this fic is making me all warm and fuzzy inside. I am so happy that you all are liking it so far.
> 
> Just a couple of notes before we begin the third chapter:
> 
> This fic is more inspired by the old school Bachelor and not so much the new one we see on TV today, while I do grab some idea's from the newer more over the top Bachelor show I truly believe Ian and most definitely Mickey would never put up with the BS that the show throws at the contestants today.
> 
> After watching the first episode of the newest season....I felt like that should be addressed. XD  
> Also you wont be seeing much of the one on one dates with Ian/Drew or Mickey/Drew , they will only be featured mainly when the boys are reminiscing about them simply because I want the focus to be about Ian and Mickey, this is their love story obviously. As time goes on and we get closer to the end their maybe a one on one date in the chapters but for now their won't be any. (Unless you guys want that???)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all are having a fantastic Monday! Lets continue :)

The late morning sun was already causing the stone beneath his bare feet to burn as he stepped out from the bedroom and onto its adjacent patio. It was pretty fucking surreal for a guy like him. To go from thinking he’d never be able to break away from being under his father’s reign, to actually escaping and running to New York with his sister and doing something he liked to do. And now, somehow, getting the chance to stay in sunny California on a reality T.V. show. He knew his life was crazy but he never imagined he’d be here, looking out at the mountains of Calabasas.

The view was pretty spectacular and it made him itch for his camera.

He should have known something was up when Mandy started to ask him weird, personal questions such as what his favorite fruit was or which fruit he found the most sexually appealing. She even took his phone, making him think he had misplaced it at work, just so she could take the pictures of himself he had on Tinder as well as his instagram.

When he had gotten the call from some chick whose name started with an O he hung up on her insisting that she got the wrong number. The very next day an email was sent to him announcing that he made it to the next step of the interview process of The Bachelor.

Fucking Mandy.

He tried not to answer the calls he was getting over those past few weeks but Ophelia, or whatever the fuck her name is, was almost as persistent as his bratty little sister. So in an attempt to scare her off he tried to be the rudest and most blunt guy the lady had ever talked to.

Turns out, people love when others are raw and “full of emotion” like he is. What the fuck ever that means.

So he did the other twenty different questionnaires they wanted him to take, sent more photos (majority of which were just him flipping off the camera.) He even sent in some of the photos he had taken himself over the years because, according to Mandy, they showed the real him better than any selfie could..

He hated it at first, he wasn’t a fucking sell out and he certainly didn’t need to go on a damn TV show to get laid and meet a guy.

He was on the brink of telling all the producers to go shove cacti up their asses and fuck off when they handed him a photo of Drew.

Most guys didn’t impress Mickey. As long as they were decent looking and knew how to fuck well, he could give fuck all about anything else. Drew seemed different though. Mickey knew it was cheesy but it was true that a picture told a thousand words and one look at Drew’s photo and damn it if Mickey wasn’t intrigued..

So he grit his teeth and bore it. He took the psychological exam, allowed them to film a short video about him that involved way too many people touching him and fussing with his hair and telling him to smile a real smile at least once.

And after all that, he still somehow managed to end up here fighting twenty something other guys for a chance at a real relationship.

His father’s rotting corpse was probably rolling in his grave and the thought of that brought a smile to Mickey’s face

He lit a cigarette and leaned against the iron rod balcony railing. Below him was the pool area where most of the guys were lounging about. There was a cabana area near the left side of the pool where he noticed the flash of red hair. Red was lounging in the sheltered area away from the sun, probably too worried about burning his precious alabaster skin. Mickey watched him as he chatted with another one of his housemates whose name he didn’t give a fuck about remembering because he was probably going to be gone by next week anyway. Mickey smirked to himself as he recalled last night before he went to bed. How the redhead tried his hardest not to stare at Mickey’s body as he stripped off his clothes. The guy was easy to mess with and had zero chill but he was hot as fuck and probably his only real competition here.

He sat back on one of the balcony’s chairs and relaxed for what seemed like only seconds when his thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing eruption throughout the house, as well as an obnoxious lady’s voice calling out to all the bachelors to meet in the living room.

He sighed and took one last drag of his cigarette before squashing it down on the railing. He walked past the glass doors of the balcony and through the room that he shared with Red and the dude with the glasses. As he walked down the marble staircase he saw that most of the other guys were already crowding the living room. The ever present camera crew was there and the blonde chick was giving that annoying douche bag Nick instructions, pointing to the large white envelope that laid on the coffee table.

He took his place on the corner arm of the sofa. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Red standing idly behind the sofa, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and a white tank top, his freckled shoulders tinged with pink from the sun and his long index fingers tapping on the couch in anticipation. Mickey realized he had been staring a little too long and averted his gaze.

He snapped his attention back to the envelope that was on a table, a bundle of nerves forming in the pit of his stomach. He tried his best to keep his face neutral but damn, this whole thing really was kind of thrilling.

r About a half hour later the blonde producer chick walked around to stand behind the camera crew and Nick picked up the envelope before flopping down on the couch. He looked around with a wolfish grin on his face taking his sweet time opening it.

“Hey we don’t have all day here man,” some dude to Mickey’s right chided

Nick laughed as he tore off the rest of the seal and cleared his throat dramatically like a king projecting out to his kingdom.

_“Ian, Theo, Grant, Jerry, Mickey, Chase, Dustin, Evan, Michael K, and Nick. Are you ready to score?”_

_Drew_

 

“Well fuck yeah I am,” yelled the blonde to his right. He slapped his hand onto Mickey’s shoulder and gave it a little shake.

“Hey I know this might be the closest you’ve ever been to getting laid but I doubt it’s that kind of scoring,” Mickey said as he shook the guys hand off his shoulder.

“Probably something to do with sports,” Nick said with a shrug

“Great,” sighed the tall lanky weirdo that Mickey remembered kept wiping his wine glass and refused to shake anyone’s hand the previous night. “Does this mean we are going to get dirty? I didn’t bring any clothes to play sports in.”

Mickey couldn’t help but laugh. _This fucking guy_. “Well tough love cupcake, I think it’s time to put your big boy pants on.”

 After the men changed into the required date clothes they all piled into the limo, their bodies buzzing with excitement. Thankfully the camera crew was taking a different car so the men didn’t have to feel like they were being watched or have to do any of the fake group laughing Mickey already loathed so much.

Mickey was wedged between the weirdo that was bragging about the tide to go pen he had found and Nick, the guy who read the date card a few moments before. Red was sitting diagonally from him, his long pale legs spread out so his shoes just barely touched Mickey’s.

There was idle chit chat going on as they drove to their destination. Not being one for small talk Mickey did his best to drown the group out. Or at least he did until someone asked a question and Mickey’s ears involuntary perk up at the mention of Red’s name.

“So Ian... its Ian, right?” The tall dark and somewhat handsome guy in the way back asked. “What is it that you do?”

Mickey discreetly looked up from staring at his shorts and tried to look disinterested in the conversation.

The redhead looked up at the guy, (Was his name Michael? Matthew? Martin? Who the fuck knows.)“I'm in charge of operations of mechanics at the army base down in Fort Campbell.”

 _Shit._ Mickey thought to himself. _Army guy? No wonder the guy was so damn cut._

“Have you ever shot anyone?” Nick asked, scooting in closer to hear the conversation. Mickey couldn’t help but shoot him a ludicrous glare. Who the fuck even asks that?

Red seemed to take it well and just smiled, huffing out a small laugh. “No I never had to shoot someone but I’ve gotten in quite a few fights...”

Ian’s answer seemed good enough for Nosey Nick as Red and the Michael guy continued talking, the others remaining silent through the rest of the trip.

“Oh shoot!” gasped Jerry as the limo took a turn into what look like a park. “We’re doing something outside?”

“What the fuck did you think we were gonna do?” Mickey asked shaking his head. “Knit sweaters?”

Jerry shrugged and mumbled, “What’s wrong with knitting sweaters?”

That got a laugh out of the group in the limo and for a brief second Mickey’s gaze locked with Ian’s, his eyes crinkling as he covered his mouth, trying his best not to laugh harder.

A part of Mickey wished Red would move that damn hand so he could see that smile. Another part was kicking him in the ass for sounding like such a fucking dork.

 

* * *

 

 

A soccer field; they were going to play soccer. Mickey was relieved it wasn’t some rich dude’s sport like polo or cricket or whatever it was they did in Maine. He could do soccer.

The crew ushered the group of men towards the center of the field where they were told to wait. In the distance Mickey spotted Drew jogging over to them, all decked out in tight Under Amour gear. Mickey chewed on his bottom lip, he looked good, Damn good. He had no problem roughing these guys up for some more one on one time with him.

“Hey guys, how are we doing?” Drew asked as he flipped the soccer ball in his hands. There were the usual hoots and hollers from the group for filming purposes.

“So today,” Drew continued, “We’re going to play a little soccer. First we’re just gonna play around a little and then I’m going to divide you guys into two teams. The team that wins gets to continue their date with me and the one that doesn’t, unfortunately, has to go back to the mansion. So let’s have some fun okay guys?

Mickey rubbed his face in annoyance as there was more hollering from the group; honestly did they have to cheer at everything Drew says? Jesus.

The other contestants began to run towards the middle of the field where a net full of soccer balls were placed. Mickey’s eyes moved instantly to Ian’s back, admiring the way his muscles moved underneath the white t-shirt he was wearing.

He felt someone bump into him gently, causing Mickey to swiftly look away from the redheads shoulders. He looked up to see Drew smiling at him.

“So you any good at soccer Mickey?” Drew asked as they followed the other guys.

Mickey shrugged as he averted his eyes away from Red and back to Drew “I was more of a baseball player.”

“Oh yeah? What position?”

“Second baseman but I got kicked off the team when I was in little league. I pissed on home plate when the other’s team’s coach pissed me off.”

Drew laughed and the warmness Mickey felt when he first met him returned. “So you never played again?”

Mickey rubbed the back of his neck, he wished he could of played again but that year…well that year was the year things started to go from bad to worse for Mickey and he wasn’t quite ready to talk about it to anyone. “Yeah I don’t know, I guess it really wasn’t my thing.”

“Yeah but you found your thing right?” Drew asked, placing his arm around Mickey. Mickey tried his best not to freeze up, physical contact wasn’t his favorite but in his peripheral vision he saw a camera filming them. “With photography?” Drew nudged Mickey a little closer and Mickey moved away slowly enough to make it look casual. Despite the hatred of people he barely knew touching him, a blush crept up onto his neck. It was nice that Drew remembered their conversation from the night before. Maybe that’s why he got the damn first impression rose.

“Yeah I guess so,” replied Mickey. He glanced over to the camera still recording him and decided not to say anything more. He hated that the conversation didn’t feel genuine anymore.

The men started out fooling around the soccer field, casually kicking the ball back and forth to each other, taking turns to talk to Drew and bull shitting with each other. All except for Jerry who was sitting on the bleachers scrubbing at his jeans with a tide to go pen, cussing under his breath at Nick who “accidently” tripped him right when they begun.

Mickey took a seat on the metal bleachers and watched as Drew and Micheal K chased each other with the ball, another guy trailing behind them.

“I think that guy is going to be some serious competition,” said avoice from next to him. It was Red, leaning up against the railing, his arms crossed. He looked down at Mickey, his vivid sunset orange hair shining in the warm sun.

Mickey shrugged as he mentally told the butterflies that were now waking up from their nap to pipe down with the fluttering.

“Nah he ain’t shit. I can take him.”

“He was the first one picked last night. Usually that means he’ll go far.”

“Yeah,” Mickey said once the pesky insects started to settle. He looked back up at Ian and they started right back up. “But he didn’t get the first impression rose now did he?”

This time Ian didn’t hold back his laugh and the grin on his face was enough to put Mickey’s stomach through a damn rollercoaster.

“Yeah I guess you’re good then. I’m the one that has to worry.”

Mickey shook his head, not believing for a second that a guy that looked like Red had an ounce of insecurity.

“I think you’ll be alright Red,” stated Mickey as he jumped of the bleacher and back onto the field. Ian followed him and they walked in stride together, Mickey pointing a few rows down, “Its germaphobe Jerry over there that needs to be worried. Unless Drew has some type of cleaning kink.”

“Oh then he most definitely will not like what I’m into.”

Mickey’s brows shot up and he looked over to the ginger. “Oh really? Is that so?”

Ian smiled bashfully and opened his mouth to reply when a whistle from a crew guy dressed as a referee called everyone to the middle of the field.

Ian and Mickey walked together to the center of the field where Drew was standing with the rest of the men.

One of the crew guys gave Drew a signal to which Drew nodded back and turned to the group. “You guys ready for some friendly competition?”

They were divided into two teams: shirts and skins. Mickey was on the “shirt team.” He watched as Red took his shirt off exposing his cut-from-marble abs. thankfully he wasn’t the only one who was mesmerized by Red’s roman god-like body.

“Now that’s not even fair,” sighed Nick. “How are we supposed to compete with Adonis over here looking like that?”

Mickey thought it was strange how he didn’t like the way Nick was looking at Ian. Hell he didn’t like how _any_ of the guys were shooting him appreciative glances... like they had been starved of dick for too long. Jesus.

“Okay you guys going to continue to drool over ginger over there or are we gonna play a fucking game?” Mickey asked, swiping his lower lip with his thumb, sneaking a glance for himself. Ian only gave him a soft smile and shrug that caused Mickey’s stomach to do an involuntary summersault. He snatched the ball out of Ian’s hand and flashed a snarky smile back at him.

“You ready to get your ass schooled Red?”

Ian grinned taking the ball back from Mickey; Mickey ignored the way his skin tingled where their fingers touched.

“Bring it,” Ian smirked turning back to his team and calling out to them. “Let’s go!” He turned around once more and looked at Mickey, raking his eyes up and down his body the same way he was trying so desperately not to do the night before. He blushed furiously and quickly looked away.

Mickey smiled to himself, shaking his head, thinking about just how little game the redhead seemed to have.

At least he had his looks going for him.

“Ey!” he called out to Nick and Theo, “I got goal.”

He turned and flashed a smile at Drew as he sauntered over to the goal post.

Ian and Nick kicked off; Ian and his orangutan like limbs swiftly ran pass Nick with the ball and charged at the net. With one swift kick Ian aimed for the goal but Mickey was faster and caught the ball.

“You got to be a lot quicker than that Brave!” yelled Mickey as he tossed the ball to Theo.

Ian shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see what you were made of.” He threw Mickey a wink and rushed back to the center of the field.

 _Fucker._ Mickey thought to himself as he took his place back in the goal.

After several failed attempts of Mickey’s team trying to score a goal because fucking Jerry was too afraid of the white and black ball to do a damn thing, Mickey decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Okay Sheldon Cooper,” Mickey said pointing at Jerry who was seemingly out of breath from just running up the field. “Get in the goal.”

“What? No! It’s all muddy over there!”

“I’ll do it,” groaned some other guy from his team. Mickey nodded his head in thanks and looked back at Jerry.

“Please just stay away from the ball, okay?”

Jerry nodded furiously and allowed Mickey to pass him.

“Yo big guy,” Mickey yelled at Michael K. “You and me.”

“Damn Mickey,” Drew shouted from the sidelines. He looked elated and Mickey could feel his ears going red by the affectionate look in his eye. “Way to be aggressive.”

Before Mickey could say anything back Michael K pushed him back and took the ball with him. Michael K. was bigger but Mickey was tons more agile thanks to years of running from cops on the south side. He was able to swiftly move past him and scored a goal with ease.

“And that’s how it’s done!” He hollered turning with the intention of giving Drew a flirtatious wink. Red was in his line of sight instead,   the wink causing the redhead to freeze almost immediately.

“Chill Red,” Mickey said, walking past Ian and trying not to have his eyes land on those toned freckled arms. “You know that wasn’t for you.”

“That was amazing!” Drew said, jogging towards the two men and enveloping Mickey into a hug. It took every ounce of former south side bad ass to not squirm out of the embrace as he awkwardly patted Drew’s back.

“Yeah, uh thanks,” Mickey replied, rubbing his neck as they pulled apart.

Suddenly a ball flew past both Drew and Mickey’s heads; Mickey looked over Drew’s shoulder to see Ian looking guilty as all hell.

“Sorry I uh, I wasn’t paying attention,” Ian said, shrugging as he gave both of them an apologetic look.

“It’s okay Ian,” reassured Drew, turning to start chatting with the redhead. Irritation begun to tingle inside Mickey as he watched the pair, obviously he just selfishly wanted Drew’s attention on him and no one else.

Yeah, that had to be it.

After Mickey scored a few more goals the shirts team were declared the winners for the day; The skin team had to return to the mansion.

“See you asswipes later!” shouted Mickey as the other team piled into the limo. In return he got a few dirty looks, except for Red who just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“I would hate to see how you really play soccer Red!” He yelled causing the guy to flick him off; his heart did an annoying swoop as Mickey returned the gesture.

 

* * *

 

 

When they weren’t filming, life around the bachelor mansion was lackluster. They were not allowed to have any communication with the outside world. So that meant no phones, tablets or laptops. And they were only allowed to watch movies so no television what so ever.

Therefore the options for entertainment were workout, read, eat and sleep.

Ian had attempted to work out in the room he, Theo, and Mickey shared but one morning when he was doing his ab workout Mickey decided it was a good time to do pull ups on the doorframe of the balcony. Trying to focus on his own workout proved fruitless with the flex and stretch of Mickey's impressive biceps in his line of vision so he decided to leave and go elsewhere.

Ian noticed Mickey kept mainly to himself, only coming out of the room they shared to grab something to eat or drink. If he ever saw Mickey speaking with another guy it was short, sweet and usually one sided.

He wasn’t an asshole… he was just… Mickey.

The oddest part was that even when Mickey did decide to talk it was usually directed towards Ian himself. It didn’t seem to bother Ian though. Why would it? He liked Mickey’s silent company and even though Mickey seemed annoyed in his presence sometimes he never told Ian to fuck off, so that was a plus.

It shouldn’t have mattered anyways: Ian had to figure out how to spend more time with Drew. The group date they had two days ago was a fiasco and he wasn’t chosen for any of the single dates this week (which seemed to annoy Olivia) but what could he do? He was trying; he was just… distracted that’s all.

So he wasn’t surprised when Mickey got the last single date of the week, not even a little.

He was, however, surprised to be woken up in the middle of the night by Mickey scrambling around their room.

“You got anything to eat man?” Mickey asked, opening his suit case even though he knew nothing was in there. “Fucking starving.”

Ian rubbed his eyes; the clock read 1:03 AM “Did you not eat anything on the date?”

“No! No one fucking told me that we couldn’t eat on the dates! Something about the microphones being able to pick up our chewing sounds or some bullshit, like do they think we all eat like fucking cows?”

Ian laughed as he sat up and shook his head, “You didn’t read all of the guidelines did you?”

“Who the hell had time for that?” Mickey stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “That thing was a damn Harry Potter novel.”

It took quite an effort to not ask the brunette if he had ever actually read Harry Potter but he knew better than to mess with someone who was hangry. “We’re supposed to eat before the date or at the hotel.”

“Yeah and waste $70 of food? Fuck that,” Mickey scoffed, rubbing his lower lip with his thumb. He glanced over to Theo who was passed out on his own bed.

“Should we check if he’s alive? There’s no way we didn’t wake this fucker up already.”

Ian shrugged and took his voice down to a whisper as he grabbed Mickey’s arm, pulling him down the hall.“C’mon, let’s see if there’s anything in the kitchen.”

He led Mickey into the mansion’s giant fancy kitchen, the cold tile beneath his bare feet waking him up.

Mickey brushed past him and opened the fridge, his face etched with disapproval.

“The fuck is all this gluten free shit?” he asked, picking up a box of some unknown substance.

Ian peered over the shorter man’s shoulder, “Probably Jerry’s. He mentioned something about bread being the devil. Or Chase. He’s a health freak too.”

Mickey shook his head in disgust, “Fucking pussies. Is there any real food in here?”

“You know you can tell them what you want right? They’ll get anything you want.”

“Yeah,” huffed Mickey, “everything except for BBQ Pringles. I asked one of the crew chicks for those and you’d think I asked her for fried crickets or something.”

“I think they want us to be semi healthy, you know, keep up with our dashing appearances.”

Mickey looked Ian up and down while doing that thing with his thumb and lower lip again. “Oh yeah. That so?”

They kept eye contact with each other for a moment. Ian was amazed at the way the blue-grey of the fridge light illuminated Mickey’s pale skin: not to mention how truly blue his eyes were. He looked good standing there: his hair disheveled and his tie messed up. No doubt about that. Ian decided it was best to ignore the way his heart began to pound against his chest; he was just admiring an attractive man, that’s all.

“Um… Yeah well” Ian stuttered, finally breaking his gaze and looking at the contents of the fridge. “Looks like I can either make you PB&J or non-dairy grilled cheese.”

“I can make myself a PB&J thank you very much.”

Ian rolled his eyes and gently pushed Mickey out of the way. “Just sit down.”

Mickey reached for a beer before he flipped him off, taking a seat at the counter. Ian grabbed what he needed from the fridge and the pantry and got to work. Both men were silent for a while as Ian made Mickey’s sandwich, every once in a while one would look up at the other and then quickly look away.

“So,” Ian said, a part of him itching to know, “How was your date with Drew?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him as he took a sip of his beer. “You really want to know?”

Ian shrugged, not really knowing the correct answer to that. “Sure, why not?”

“It was fun,” Mickey stated simply, no longer looking at Ian.

“Just fun?”

Mickey shook his head in disbelief, his thumb picked aimlessly at the label of his beer bottle, “What else do you want me to tell you man?”

Ian sighed not knowing why exactly he wanted to know so badly or why it was suddenly bothering him so much. He slapped the two pieces of bread together, put them on the plate and slid it over to Mickey.

“Here’s your slightly toasted white bread with a grape reduction and pureed peanuts,” he explained as he took a knife and sliced the sandwich. “Cut diagonally, of course, for maximum flavor.”

Mickey scrunched his eyebrows as he slowly reached for the plate not taking his eyes off Ian.

“What?” Ian gasped, “You’ve never seen ‘Chopped’ before?”

“Is that the show where they have to make stuff out of certain shit? And there’s that bitchy lady?”

Ian chuckled as he nodded. “Yeah that one, they always describe their dishes using words that they probably just made up.”

“My sister watches that show. I don’t think there’s a reality shit show she hasn’t seen before.”

Ian sighed, “Yeah so does my roommate’s girlfriend. I just happen to be there when she’s watching T.V.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Yeah sure, you probably like them just as much as she does.”

Ian shrugged, trying his best not to smile. “Sometimes... most of the time.”

Mickey laughed before biting into his sandwich. “This is good man, thanks.”

Ian couldn’t help but grin; the warm and fuzzy feeling slowly crept up on him again as he watched Mickey enjoy his simple creation. He averted his eyes before he stared too long and tapped his fingers on the countertop, not sure what to say next.

After a few minutes of silence, Mickey finally spoke. “Paint ball.”

Ian raised his eyebrow, “Paint ball?”

“Yeah,” continued Mickey, taking one last bite of his sandwich. “We went paintballing, and uh, then went to this bar, there was a live band. Then had our “dinner” and now I’m here.”

“I went paintballing once with my brothers,” Ian recalled. He remembered that day vividly. His mother, Monica, had returned and was in one of her “super mom” moods and decided it would be a great idea to take her boys paintballing. The day was great until his mother started chasing members of the other team, threatening to kill them after one of them made his little brother cry.

Mickey took a sip of his beer, “Yeah my brothers and I did it a few times too, but my family is more into the real thing. Had to be living on the south side.”

“South Side?” Ian questioned. “As in South Side of Chicago?”

Mickey nodded. “The one and only.”

“I’m from Canaryville.”

“Armour Square,” replied Mickey, raising one of his eyebrows in surprise. “I’d never peg you for South Side.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” joked Ian, used to people telling him that. “I wanted to get out. I didn’t think I could make anything out of myself while staying there.”

Mickey slid his hand down his face and paused for a moment before saying, “Yeah... I know the feeling.”

Ian walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer for himself., “So what do you do in New York?”

“I work at a distillery most of the time, but I do some photography here and there.”

“You?” asked Ian, “A photographer?”

“Does that shock you Red?”

Ian tried to imagine the man before him taking pictures in Central Park: of the people, of animals, or just nature itself. . His body felt warm with admiration for the brunette.

Ian smiled warmly, “I guess I’m not the only one full of surprises.”

Mickey returned the smile, “Guess not.”

Ian realized he wanted to know more about Mickey. About his favorite thing to photograph, about his life in New York, about why he left the Southside. But as much as he wanted to ask, it didn’t feel right. He wasn’t here for Mickey. He wasn’t here to get to know anybody or to make friends. He was here to meet the love of his life. That’s it. However he couldn’t help himself, something about Mickey simply captivated him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the clank of a beer bottle going into the trash can.

“Well, I’m fucking exhausted,” Mickey said with a yawn, the hem of his shirt hitched up revealing the slightest bit of hipbone. Ian bit his lower lip and averted his eyes.

“You coming, Firecrotch?” Mickey called over shoulder, already half way down the hall.

Ian chugged the rest of his beer and tossed it in the trash. “Yeah I’m coming.”

They quietly entered their room, trying their best not to wake their roommate and got undressed with their backs to each other. It took every fiber in Ian’s being to not take a peak back at the brunette as they both crawled into their own beds.

“Night, Red,” Ian heard Mickey whisper from his corner.

“Good night,” Ian whispered back, his arms folded under his head as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing with the conversation the two of them shared downstairs just moments before. How easy it was to just talk to Mickey, how effortless it was to just simply be with him, the way his heart did fifty flips when they guy simply smiled. He now understood why Mickey reminded him so much of home because he was from his hometown and that gave Ian a great sense of comfort knowing he wasn’t the only fish out of water here.

Meanwhile, across the room Mickey lied awake in his own bed his thoughts reeling as well. He had a great time on his date with Drew there was no doubt about that but the hours he spent with Drew didn’t seem to compare to the one hour he had with Red downstairs. He remembered when he first arrived to New York and how he picked up a camera for the first time since his mom died how he felt like he could really breathe again. That’s what it felt like with Red for that short hour, with no cameras pointing at them, no uncomfortable mics attached to his back, and none of his damn insecure thoughts holding him back. He was able to breathe and just be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEK.


	4. Week Two [Part One]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short transition chapter guys but I promise the storm is coming >:)

The first week was long and gruesome but Ian and Mickey both made it through. There were now seventeen men still left in the house; seventeen too many men fighting for Drew's attention.

It was a lot tougher than Ian imagined it would be. He always thought of himself as a determined guy who went for what he wanted, but having sixteen other dudes going after the same guy was becoming more frustrating by the day. Especially now that Ian couldn’t seem to stop being distracted by a different man in the house. A man that was beginning to fill all of his thoughts and fuck… even his dreams.

After a way shorter dream than he would have liked. A dream that involved Ian bending Mickey over the kitchen’s granite island and fucking him senseless, Ian woke to an unconceivable raging hard on. Taking advantage of the fact that he was the early riser of his roommates, he quickly bolted into their shared shower to rub one out, thoughts of how slick Mickey’s body would be beneath his fingertips making it a quick.

He was so beyond fucked and there was nothing he could do about it.

He could take the risk, tell Mickey how he felt, and see if he felt the same. But it was too dangerous, too risky and would literally cost him a ten thousand dollar fine if he tried to leave the show. And that was money he didn’t have just lying around.

The fine was written in everyone’s contract when signing up for the show: Unless you attained a serious injury, developed a deadly disease or had proof that one of your family members was on their death bed , there was no way one could leave the show.

So he had to grit his teeth and bare it, pretending he only had eyes for Drew when in reality another man was slowly overtaking all of his thoughts. Mickey probably didn’t even feel the same way. Shit, Ian found it to be damn near impossible that he did. Mickey's face lit up when he was telling Ian about his and Drew’s date last night and they both looked so damn comfortable with each other during the group date.

Ian hated to admit it, but he was jealous in more ways than one.

He liked Drew. He was hot as hell, charismatic and despite being from a wealthy family he seemed very down to earth. What guy wouldn’t like him?

Ian sighed to himself as he leaned back against the lounge chair he was pretending to be relaxed on. He had been enjoying the morning by himself until the damn camera crew showed up and demanded some interviews. So instead of having a genuine conversation with the guys, the entire conversation was prompted by Olivia. The camera was currently on Nick, Olivia’s blonde head eagerly bobbing along to whatever Nick was talking about at the moment.

 

Turning towards Theo and Ian, Nick hissed, “How in the fuck is crazy Jeffery still here?” He rolled his eyes back at the glass doors of the kitchen where they could see Jerry and Grant using the juicer to make their daily concoction of disgusting shit. "Did you see him grab the rose with a napkin last night? A damn napkin! How are you going to be with a guy if you can’t even touch him without gloves on?"

"You think he takes that tide to go pen everywhere with him?" Theo said, nudging a silent Ian to join in. He huffed out a laugh and said "I wonder if he uses it on the sheets after sex."

"Are you kidding?! I doubt that guy would let anyone go raw on him."

"Probably would use the pen on Drew if he ever tried something."

"Speaking of Drew, I heard that he and Michael K kissed on their date last week."

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Shit man I got to get a one on one date. I'm tired of this group shit."

Olivia quickly grabbed Nick and whispered something into his ear. He nodded at her and continued to speak, “Do you think any of the other guys kissed him last week?"

A camera was recording them but Ian could care less: the prompted conversation finally got interesting.

Theo scoffed, "I doubt Kyle and Drew kissed, we all know Kyle is all talk."

"Yeah,” Nick shrugged looking over at Olivia who was waving her hand encouragingly to continue. “What about Mickey?”

Ian broke out of his forced daydreaming at the sound of Mickey’s name he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible as the discussion continued.

"I have no idea, you know he only talks to Ian over there,” Nick said. “Hey, Ian did Mickey tell you anything about his date with Drew?"

"I heard you both leaving the room a few nights ago," Theo stated raising his eyebrow at Ian. "What’d you guys talk about?"

Ian could hear the cameraman shift so the camera was on him as he played with his lower lip. He knew damn well Mickey wouldn’t want to be exposed like this so he did the best he could to try and change the subject.

"Meh, he didn’t talk much,” he muttered, ignoring the disappointed look on Olivia who was clearly hoping for more out of him. “We just ate some food. Apparently the food at the restaurant sucked or something."

It was a good enough answer for Nick and Theo, both men nodding while the cameraman and Olivia shared a annoyed look. Ian knew they wouldn’t let up on such a vague answer.

Ian just shrugged, "Mick doesn't... uh I mean Mickey doesn’t seem like the kiss and tell type to me."

That seemed to satisfy both Olivia and the cameraman and they turned to ask Nick and Theo more questions, leaving Ian with an unnerving thought: _Had Mickey kissed Drew? Was that why he was being so discreet the other night?_

It was to be expected of course, most of the contestants kissed on the first date the last few seasons and Mickey had every right to kiss him. Mickey and Drew were supposed to be getting to know each other after all. He shouldn’t be mad right? He would get his chance soon to have some one on one time with Drew.

Oh shit who was he kidding? His chest wasn’t tightening at the fact that he himself hadn’t kissed Drew yet, his chest was constricted by the thought of Mickey, covered in paint ball smears and mud to his knees leaning in to give a just as dirty Drew a passionate kiss.

Yeah it bothered him, it bothered him a whole lot but what was he suppose to do?

He did his best to keep his face stoic as the damn camera focused entirely on him again. He hoped to whatever higher being there maybe was that Olivia couldn’t see his inner turmoil.

“So Ian,” she began, twirling a strand of her hair around her fingers. “Are you worried that you haven’t had enough time with Drew?”

Ian knew that there was the truthful answer and then the answer Olivia most likely wanted. If she wanted confident, sure of himself Ian, then that’s what she was going to get.

“Not really, I’m sure I will soon enough.” he forced a cocky smile onto his face and chuckled. “ Hey! They always save the best for last right?”

Once again he pleased Olivia enough to leave him alone and as if right on cue he was signaled into the house. He followed Olivia and her crew into the living room where a few of the other guys were hanging around. Clearly they had been prompted to be present to watch him open the envelope on the table: the envelope with just his name on it.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey adjusted the pillow he had his back resting on and took a long drag of his cigarette, watching the light grey smoke float to the ceiling.

Mickey was certain he wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the house but he dared anyone to ask if he cared. Neither Ian nor Theo seemed to complain about it so he didn’t see the need to take his bad habit outside all the time.

He was also certain that he was supposed to be downstairs since they had cued everyone to the living room to see who got the date card. However, he could not have cared less about that too; he had gotten his first shot last week.

He was nervous as fuck the day he was called for a one on one date with Drew. He went through the one pack of cigarettes he was allowed a week right before it was time to leave and then drained almost an entire bottle of mouthwash so he wouldn’t reek of nicotine when he came out of the mansion to see Drew.

He was told to bring two sets of clothes, one casual and the other semi formal (whatever the fuck that meant.) So for the first outfit he settled on a pair of dark blue jeans and some old black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Thankfully Drew looked just as casual as he had in jeans and a charcoal grey tee shirt. Mickey couldn’t deny that Drew looked good in casual day to day clothes and his nerves settled more once he had learned what they would be doing.

Paintball. He could do paintball.

Despite the cameras being in their faces and the crew taking forever to get set up the first part of the date was a blast. Drew had definitely played before and (much to Mickey’s surprise) was not afraid to get dirty.

After two hours of playing, Mickey and Drew were sent off to separate hotel rooms to shower and get ready for the second part of their date. Mickey then met Drew in the lobby before driving off to a restaurant that also was a distillery. Mickey was never much of a talker so he had to really try to honestly answer all of Drew’s strange personal questions. Why had all his relationships fail in the past? The answer to that was he never had a real relationship or at least never one that lasted more than a couple months. Why did he seem closed off? Easy, because he just was, not everybody needed to know his damn business.

Drew seemed to not care about how vague Mickey’s answers were. In fact he was intrigued fuck and he even called Mickey a ‘sexy mystery.’ Whatever that meant.

Thinking about the end of the date, when he had been pulled aside by one of the crew, made Mickey groan again and bury his face into his pillow.

_“So Mickey, I think the date has gone great so far don’t you think?” The skinny blonde chick asked, “It really seems like you two made a connection.”_

_Mickey swiped his thumb across his lower lip and shrugged, “Yeah, yeah I guess so.”_

_“How about we end the night with a kiss? Since it’s going so well? Let’s see if you and Drew have a physical connection as well. Let’s see those sparks Mick!”_

_He wanted to make a snarky remark and tell the bitch to never call him Mick but he refrained. He didn’t want Drew to see him as an asshole but shit did he have to kiss the guy? Wasn’t this date already enough?_

_He could count the number of times he had kissed a guy on his left hand. It wasn’t like he hated kissing, it was just that kissing was so intimate…so personal. For Mickey, kissing was the final sledge hammer to the stone wall he had built around himself. And now he had to kiss the damn guy when his wall had been barely picked at or else he would look like a total douche bag on TV._

_He made a quick mental note to make Mandy pay for tricking him into going on this shit show._

So it happened. They kissed and there were literal fucking fireworks going off behind them but did Mickey feel the metaphorical fireworks when he kissed Drew? No, not really. It felt forced and the chemistry that he may have felt was overshadowed by the fact that a damn camera was in his face.

It didn’t leave him breathless as he forced his best smile at Drew after the kiss. He didn’t feel giddy or whatever else people were supposed to feel after they kiss someone special.

The worst part was as he leaned in to kiss Drew he found himself imagining what it would be like to kiss a certain redhead instead. That thought alone is what helped him push through how awkward he felt.

His self-reflection was abruptly interrupted as the redhead he couldn’t stop thinking about entered the room, giving Mickey a warm welcoming smile that made his stomach flip.

“Hey! What are you up to?” Ian asked as he walked towards the giant closet they all shared.

“Doing fuck all,” Mickey replied rubbing his hand down his face. He figured he should go to the mansion’s library and see if there was anything else to read since he didn’t think he would be doing anything today. “Where you going’?”

Ian flipped the small card he had in his hand up for Mickey to see. “Got a date.”

Mickey did his best to ignore the way the butterflies in his stomach started to flutter with anxiety as he discreetly watched Ian change into his date clothes. Ian could have easily closed the door to their closet but he didn’t, reaching behind himself to take his shirt off, biceps and traps flexing. Fuck if Mickey didn’t think that Ian was putting on a show for him the way he was moving so slowly.

Mickey swallowed as he averted his eyes from Ian’s cut abdominals, “Well it’s about time. I was worried you were gonna be forgotten about Red.”

Ian shook his head as he reached for a navy blue button down, “Nah it’s only week two, it was bound to happen.”

“Do you know what you guys will be doing?”

Ian reached down and picked up the card, reading it out loud, “Ian, are you ready to fly, wine and dine?”

Mickey snickered, “Wow can they get any cheesier? Who comes up this shit?”

Ian walked out of the closet and looked down at himself and back at Mickey, “How do I look?”

_Hot, sexy, gorgeous, get the fuck over here and get on me_ Was what Mickey wanted to say but he shrugged simply and said, “Look good.”

Ian stood there for a moment and fiddled with the card, glancing at it and then back at Mickey.

The curious looks Ian was shooting him caused Mickey’s heart to involuntary speed up. “What is it Army?”

He watched as Ian rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the door then once again back at Mickey, the tips of his ears close to matching the color of the hair on his head. “Um, I was just wondering…”

“Spit it out.”

“Did you kiss Drew?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Who wants to know?”

Ian just shrugged but Mickey didn’t miss the flash of disappointment that moved across Ian’s face.

“I mean it sort of just happened,” Mickey found himself saying.

Ian nodded but clearly wasn’t okay with that answer. “Is he a good kisser?”

Mickey’s insides squirmed, wishing this conversation would just end. As much as he wanted to say a million different things to Ian he forced his lip to curl up into a smirk, “I don’t know man why don’t you find out for yourself?”

And it hurt to say because in that moment Mickey never wanted anything less.

Ian shifted his feet side to side as Mickey turned his head to the window, neither knowing what to say.

“Well I guess I should get going,” Ian sighed, glancing up at Mickey with a small half smile. “See you later?”  

Mickey hated the way his chest tightened. He wanted to ask Ian why the fuck they were doing this anyways but he refrained. “Yeah. Yeah see ya. Have fun.”

He could feel Ian continue to stare at him but he kept looking at the window, not trusting himself to look back.

He heard the door click a few moments later.

* * *

 

Drew’s hands were soft like he had never worked a day in his life.

Ian didn’t take notice of the texture of men’s hands before he had finally decided to date guys his own age. He used to hook up with a lot of rich closeted older dudes who treated him like trophy: a trophy they never showed off to anyone but themselves of course. Their hands were always ridiculously soft compared to his own calloused, hard working hands. The only difference between those guys and Drew was that Drew was only two years older than him and Drew actually talked to Ian like an equal instead of a trophy.

Drew had asked about Ian's family and he listened without judgment. That felt very new to Ian since his story about his little brother breaking a guy’s leg with a bat for him and his older brother Lip usually bought him some disturbed looks from people.

Ian discovered that one on one dates were much easier than group dates. While they were long and maybe a little over the top, it was much easier to impress Drew when he didn't have to worry about several other men beating him to the punch.

The date started off with a plane ride to the southern vineyards of California. When they landed they were treated to a wine and cheese tasting. Since they couldn’t’ eat the cheese because of the damn mics, they actually had to pretend to eat it, which made Ian feel ridiculous. They then took a tour of several different vineyards in the area and by the end of the night Ian had a great buzz going on. Before he met Drew at a rooftop bar where they were supposed to have “dinner,” Ian took advantage of the free room service of the hotel he was getting ready in.

In the limo on the way back to the mansion Ian was feeling good, until Mickey made his way back into his thoughts.

In fact the date would have been considered perfect if Mickey would have just stayed out of his head. He wished he had never asked Mickey if he had kissed Drew. He wished he could erase the way Mickey’s blue eyes softened when Ian had told him he was going on a one on one date with Drew.

It was so confusing to Ian. He was having a great time with a guy he would have never imagined himself dating in a million of years, Drew’s hand linked with his and Ian couldn’t help but wonder how Mickey’s hands would feel wrapped around his own.

No matter how much he pushed it away and pleaded with his whole mind,he could not get Mickey out of his head.

“I had a really nice time with you tonight Ian,” Drew whispered softly but still loud enough so the mic would pick it up. Ian immediately broke out of his thoughts of sky blue eyes and calloused hands and smiled up at Drew.

“Yeah, me too.” Ian smiled and gave Drew’s hand a gentle squeeze as the limo pulled into the mansion’s driveway.

“I’m so happy we got to know each other better tonight. I really feel like we have so much in common.”

_Did they?_ Wondered Ian. Yeah the conversations throughout the day went smoothly but did they have things in common? Was he just saying this because they were in front of the camera?

Ian didn’t have a chance to respond because before he knew it his face was being captured and his lips thoroughly kissed.

As much as Ian wanted to pull away he knew he couldn’t. The camera crew was in the limo with them and he would have looked like an asshole if he pulled away now. After all it was all a part of a show.

The kiss lingered and Ian could feel the smile on Drew’s lips as they broke away and Ian did his best to return it.

“Have a good night,” Ian heard Drew say but his mind once again drifted back to this morning when he woke up and saw Mickey sprawled out on his own bed, his full lips slightly parted.

He wanted to know what it was like to kiss those lips.

“You too, Drew,” He finally uttered, giving Drew a fleeting kiss on the cheek. Ian stepped out of the limo and watched as the car turned out of the driveway, his chest feeling like it had a burning hole inside.

This didn’t feel real. When he watched the show everything seemed so fleeting and romantic but actually being on it? It was hard work; acting if one could call it that. It was cameras in your face and whispers in your ear to do this and do that. None of it felt like it was really his life.

Ian sighed and looked down at the rose that was neatly tucked into his shirt pocket. Drew had given it to him at dinner, insuring that Ian didn’t have to worry about going home during the next ceremony.

He didn’t want to go home though, not yet anyways. Maybe he just needed to give Drew a few more chances, it was only week two anyways and even he could admit that he was nervous about all of this as well. And they did have fun today despite Ian’s thoughts constantly turning back to the brunette stuck at the mansion.

He was greeted by some of the men as he entered the house, all of them asking him questions about how the date went.

It didn’t take long for him to notice Mickey behind the group of guys, nonchalantly sipping a beer and trying his damndest to look like he didn’t care about the details of Ian's date.

“It was fun,” Ian replied to Grant, who apparently had his first date with Drew the next day. “We really had a good time.”

“So did you guys kiss?” Nick asked anxiously.

Ian’s eyes instantly flew to connect with Mickey’s, the shorter man now staring at him with great interest Ian felt his stomach do a somersault because fuck. Who had eyes that blue?

Ian raised his shoulders and smirked as he looked back at Nick, “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

The room filled with exaggerated groans but the only reaction Ian cared about came from the guy in the back who gave him a smile so soft that it nearly melted him.

“Come on Ian,” Olivia beckoned, tapping him on the shoulder... “Time for your final interviews for the night.”

As Ian followed her into the interviewing room he turned to get one last look at Mickey, the brunette already halfway up the stairs.

* * *

 

 

Later that night (or early the next morning depending on who you asked) Ian stepped out of the interview room with his head pounding and his stomach growling with hunger. He made his way into the kitchen, stopping mid way through opening the fridge when something on the island counter caught his eye: A plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a note next to it.

Ian’s mouth instantly curled up into a smile as he read the scratchy hand writing, his heart fluttering spontaneously as the vulgar words warmed him all over.

_In case you fucking forgot to eat Red_

_M._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ….. :)


	5. Week Two [Part Two]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is probably my third attempt in posting this chapter today. Of course my computer decided today was the day it would crash over...and over again but hey third time is a charm eh?
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> Real quick shoutout to my girl Kait. Thank you for all you do to make this story better. Thanks for being an amazing friend :)
> 
> Secondly, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Carla and Michelle, thank you for watching trashy reality TV with us every week and thank you for giving us an idea to one of the scenes in this chapter. Love you girls dearly! I'm so happy Gallavich has brought us all together :)

 

“There you are! I didn’t think your name got picked for that group date.”

Ian walked through the door of the mansion's library to find Mickey sprawled out on the tufted sofa reading a book that looked like it had one too many pages for Ian. The sun was shining brilliantly through the blinds of the windows behind the sofa, lighting up the dusty room and giving Mickey’s pale skin a soft glow that did nothing to help Ian resist his desire to reach out and touch him.

“You stalking me now, Red?” Mickey asked, not even bothering to look up from his book.

Ian tore himself away from the intense fantasy in his head of Mickey naked in the sunlight and focused on the shelves of books around him.

“No,” he said with a shrug, figuring Mickey didn't need to know that he had been searching the whole house for him. “Just realized this place was here. Do you think anyone else ever comes in here?”

He heard Mickey huff out a laugh as Ian continued to peruse the shelves lining the walls.

“Do you think half of the fuckheads that come on this show even know how to read?”

“Ah ha!” Ian smirked, grabbing a book and pointing it accusingly at Mickey, “So you have watched other seasons!”

Mickey waved his free hand dismissively at Ian and rolled his eyes. “I told you, there’s only one TV in my apartment and my bitch of a sister hogs it twenty four seven.”

Ian chuckled as he opened the book in his hands. “Sure, if you say so.” He skimmed the words on the page he had landed on and flipped back to the cover, analyzing it. “Maybe I’ll start reading this Hemingway guy.”

He heard the book Mickey was holding drop to the floor, followed by a deep disgruntled groan.

“Dude, no. You can’t be serious.”

Ian looked up at him, baffled by his reaction. “Why? What’s wrong with Hemingway?”

Mickey quickly stood up and snatched the book out of Ian’s hands, flipping through the pages with an annoyed grimace on his face. “Don’t waste your time on anything this douche published. Everybody thinks this fucking asshole is some type of genius but his writing is dry as shit.”

Ian’s eyes widened at the sudden outburst. “Jeez man what the fuck did Hemingway ever do to you?”

Mickey glared at him. “The guy is a racist entitled bitch who thinks the world owes him something. Not one of his characters are relatable or even somewhat likeable. You'd be better off trying to get through Moby Dick than any of this fucker's chauvinistic bullshit.”

It took everything he had not to laugh at the man before him, pacing around like a maniac over a writer who Ian assumed had been dead for years. It was entertaining and sweet and adorable as fuck but he would never dare say those words out loud. All he could do was stare at the grumpy man in awe and wonder where Mickey has been all his life.

“Okay then Mr. Know-It-All. What do you suppose I _should_ read since you’re such an expert on all things literary?”

Mickey stopped in his tracks considering for a moment before surveying the bookshelves thoroughly, his eyes flying up and down the stacks until they found what he was searching for.

“Here,” Mickey said, pulling out a book with a dark scarlet cover and handing it over to Ian. He analyzed the cover before cocking an eyebrow at Mickey.

_“Stranger in a Strange Land?”_

Mickey nodded eagerly, “Yeah. Human dude is raised by Martians, comes back to earth, and starts a religion filled with drugs, sex and just a little bit of cannibalism.”

Ian’s eyebrows raised in surprise, holding the book out to stare at it in bewilderment. “Oh. That sounds… interesting.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “You’ll love it. Who doesn’t love anti-government shit?”

“You do know I work for the government right?” Ian chuckled, smacking the edge of the book lightly against Mickey’s chest. “Being in the Army sort of does that.”

“Yeah well that was your dumb ass decision to make now wasn't it?” countered Mickey, taking a step closer to Ian, eyes sparkling and his head playfully tilted to the side.

Mickey was so close Ian could make out the shadow of stubble spread across his chin. Ian had to fight back the overwhelming urge to reach out and swipe his thumb over the rough skin, that plump bottom lip...

Shit it really wasn’t fair how hot this guy was.

Ian shrugged and looked away, not allowing himself to admire the physical attributes of Mickey any longer than he already had. “Hey I had to get out of the South Side somehow.”

“I get that,” Mickey said with a nod, still intoxicatingly close.

“Why’d you leave?”

He watched as Mickey thoughtfully chewed on his bottom lip, just another thing Ian found endearing about the man. His heart began to flutter in excitement, hoping the brunette would open up and tell Ian something about himself, make another scratch at the marble surface that surrounded Mickey.

“Needed the escape,” Mickey said after a long but comfortable silence. It wasn’t the tell-all answer Ian had been hoping for but he understood. Everyone who escaped the South Side had a past they were running from or a dream that they could never have had living on those grey streets. Sometimes it was both.

Ian had a feeling Mickey didn’t want him to push the topic further so he nodded as he looked back down at the book in his hands. “I guess I’ll get started on this.” He looked back up meeting Mickey’s eyes with a smile, “Thanks Mick.”

Mickey hesitated, looking around the room nervously before meeting Ian’s eyes again with a shrug. “Why don’t ya just stay here?” Ian’s stomach swooped when he saw a hint of a blush rise onto Mickey’s neck. “I mean, if you want. I don’t…I don’t think it looks weird if we’re both here…you know?”

Ian desperately wanted to ask what Mickey meant by that. He thought back to the previous night: the look in Mickey’s eyes when Ian talked to the room about his date with Drew, the sandwich on the counter. It was so painfully obvious now.

Ian felt like he was floating. Mickey wanted him to stick around. Mickey wanted his company, and maybe, just maybe, Mickey was feeling the same things Ian felt.

He realized he had been staring at Mickey for much too long, the shorter man's eyebrows raised in confusion. “Or I don’t care man do whatever you want.”

“No, I’ll stay,” Ian replied quickly, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt, his heart going into over drive. “Yeah, I wanna stay.”

Mickey turned around and mumbled a “whatever” but Ian could see the ghost of a smile pulling on his lips as the brunette made his way back to the couch. Ian plopped himself down into the puffy leather chair next to the couch, both men opening their books to start reading in comfortable silence.

Every once in a while Ian could feel a pair of eyes on him but as soon as he looked up hoping to meet the sky blue gaze, Mickey’s eyes had already returned to his book. And if Ian couldn't help the lip biting grin permanently etched on his own face, well that was nobody’s business but his own.

________________________________________________________________________

Olivia Swanson laid back in a vacant makeup artist chair, closing her eyes and basking in her first break in hours. She wasn’t sure how long she had been awake at this point. Twenty hours? Twenty two? Who knew anymore. It had been an exhausting week and it was finally coming to an end. From last minute schedule changes, date venues that wouldn’t cooperate and Jerry complaining for the fifteenth time this week that his sheets weren’t the right kind of thread count or brand of hypo- allergenic cotton bullshit or whatever it was he was bitching about she was ready for a stiff drink or forty.

She took a deep relaxing breath as she did her best to push all the chaos out of her mind. It was almost working until a demanding voice came roaring through the headset that she had forgotten to take off.

 “Olivia, can you come meet me in my office please?”

She groaned loudly, some of the crew snickering at her reaction to the interruption of her quiet moment.

She shot the crew a murderous glare and clicked on her headpiece to respond to her boss. “Yeah Kim, I’m coming.”

“Hurry,” demanded the hasty voice on the other side. “We don’t have all day.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and took one last sip of her iced macchiato before standing up and throwing it away.

“Don’t you all have something to do?” She snapped at the crew workers talking amongst themselves around her. To no one’s surprise they ignored the producer’s assistant and continued their conversations.

“No biz like show biz,” She muttered under her breath, making her way to the double wide trailer where her boss’ office was located.

“Kim wanted to see me?” Olivia said, addressing the mousy chick sitting in the front of the trailer. She was one of the many “brain-stormers” or more appropriately named “over paid writers” on the show.

The girl nodded anxiously. “She’s in her office. Be careful she’s in a mood.”

Olivia sighed and reached down automatically to smooth down a wrinkle in her shirt. “When is she not?”

She brushed by the “brain-stormer” before the girl could say anything else, knowing damn well her boss didn’t like to be kept waiting. She turned the corner at the wall of filing cabinets filled with info from “The Bachelor Seasons Past” and knocked twice on the door with a “Kimberly Sparks: Executive Producer” gold plate spread across it.

“Come in,” shouted the sharp voice behind the door.

Olivia pushed into the room and was engulfed with the overwhelming smell of Mademoiselle Chanel perfume, giving her an instant headache.

“Ah Livi! Just the girl I wanted to see!” The stark looking women greeted, waving Olivia to sit in the chair on other side of her desk.

Olivia smiled wide to hide the grimace at the horrendous nickname her boss insisted on using. “I’m here.” She took her place in the old office chair and looked up at the women, “What’s up?”

“We need more drama, Livi,” Kim began with her usual theatrical tone. “I need these men to get catty, I need them to get shirtless and I need them to do something other than drink cocktails and look pretty.”

“It’s only week two, Kim,” Olivia reminded her boss. “I’m trying my best with these guys but who knew gay men could handle so much alcohol.”

Kim, who was clearly ignoring Olivia, clasped her hands together excitedly and yelled, “Pool party! Let’s have a pool party! We need these men to loosen up a little, and a pool full of half naked men always boosts the ratings.”

Olivia nodded, “That’s true, I can probably swing that.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight?!” Olivia exclaimed, her eyebrows raised. She reached down her back pocket for her phone and glanced at the time. The last group date would be done in about four hours, leaving them only three hours for a cocktail party before the rose ceremony at 11 PM. “What about the cocktail party?”

“We don’t need a cocktail party every damn week darling, but we certainly need these men sleep deprived and preferably highly intoxicated. It’s how we get the drama darling. Now don’t argue with me Livi, make it happen.”

“But we're leaving for Colorado in two days. We’ve got to get the crew ready for that.”

Kim simply waved off Olivia’s protesting.“We can’t have a pool party in the beginning of October in Colorado Livi unless you want to be sued for freezing fifteen men to death. Do it tonight or it doesn’t happen… so make it happen.”

Olivia opened her mouth to argue once more but Kim raised her hand to silence her. “Make. It. Happen. Olivia.”

All she could do was sigh a defeated “Yes Ma’m,” knowing there was no use in discussing it any further. She pushed herself out of the seat and turned to open the door.”

“And Livi... use those under eye masks I gave you. You look like shit.”

Olivia turned and gave her boss her best _fuck you_ smile before closing the door behind her with a sharp click.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey’s eyes were burning as he attempted to read his favorite Stephen King novel. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not because the book was just as compelling as the first and second time he read it, but because he was trying his damndest not to sneak any more glances at the beautiful redhead. Their eyes met a handful of times in the last two hours, and each time Mickey craved for the look to last longer.

He had been a loner his entire life. He never craved the company of another person, never craved to have them just sitting next to him. But he was feeling it now. They both read in the most comfortable silence Mickey had ever known. He wasn’t used to the quiet; he was used to loud thunderous yells, slamming doors and earsplitting gunshots. His small apartment in Brooklyn still offered plenty of those things but not as many as the house back on Zemansky Street.

Honestly it terrified Mickey how comfortable he was around Ian after only knowing him 13 days. He had never had to resist the urge to tell someone all his darkest secrets. Standing there amongst the stacks of books, Mickey had been ready to tell Ian every detail behind why he had left the South Side. Why he had run away and never looked back. He wanted to tell him because he knew the redhead wouldn’t of judged him, wouldn’t have called him a coward.He would have looked at him with earnest eyes and would have just simply... understood.

He didn’t though. He didn’t tell him anything at all because that would mean opening up to someone completely. Cracking open a book that had long been locked up and thrown into the vast ocean. It just wasn’t the Milkovich way to open up to someone completely. He never even did it with his sister, his own flesh and blood.

He’d be shocked if he received a rose this week considering he hadn’t been on a group or single date in week two. Drew tried his best to get him to open up, but Mickey was not only holding himself back, but also heavily distracted.

The ginger seated next to him was going to do him in, he just knew it. He was so close to just grabbing him and kissing that crooked grin off his face when they had been standing together by the shelves. He knew he should have let Ian go do whatever it was he wanted to do somewhere else, but Mickey hadn't wanted the big idiot to leave, not yet anyway.

Self sabotage was a Milkovich trait too.

A loud yawn next to him pulled him out of his thoughts. Ian’s book was faced down as he stretched out his body over the back of his chair, his shirt lifting ever so slightly, exposing the V line Mickey was dying to rub his hands over.

“This book is insane,” the redhead said mid yawn. “The fuck am I actually reading?”

“It gets better,” Mickey replied, stifling his own yawn. “Just keep going.”

Ian casually flipped through the book. “I haven’t read this much since… shit. High school maybe?”

“It makes the down time go by faster at least.”

Ian gave Mickey his glowing smile, the one that made Mickey’s heart flip every time. “Yeah well the company isn't so bad either.”

Mickey pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, hoping to whatever higher being that may exist that he wasn't blushing. He dared to look into Ian’s eyes, his own lips automatically curling into a smile.

“Yeah, it's not so bad. You are such a mouth breather though.”

Ian slapped his book onto Mickey’s knee, “Am not! And you're one to talk! Your hand does this stupid twitchy shaky thing every five minutes.”

Mickey raised one eyebrow, taking a chance. “Oh first you stalk me and now you’re watching me read Red?”

Ian’s face turned bright red and Mickey was positive his neck was doing the same.

“Can’t help it,” Ian replied, his eyes sweeping over Mickey's face. “I like what I see.”

Mickey’s heart stopped. Even thought he was sitting, the world felt like it was spinning and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Ian, I… uh...” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, the urge to lunge forward and run his fingers through that soft messy hair as he pulled the man into a passionate kiss surging through him.

But he stayed seated and instead rubbed the back of his burning neck like an idiot, completely at a loss for words.

“Hey,” he heard Ian say softly. “I’m just saying it how it is. You don’t have to say anything back.”

And fuck if that didn’t make Mickey want to kiss the fucker even more. But instead he just took a deep breath and nodded, giving Ian an easy grin in return.

“Well,” Ian sighed, pushing himself out of his chair, “I guess we should go get ready for that cocktail party. The group date should be done soon.”

“Uh yeah, yeah we should,” Mickey said as he stood up, stretching his legs and looking back at Ian. “See you tonight?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah Mick, see ya tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

He had to take a few laps around the pool to process whatever the hell had just happened.

Ian had basically told Mickey he was attracted to him.  _Can’t help it. I like what I see._ Damnit could he get any cornier?

He knew Mickey was most likely upstairs getting ready by now and he was doing his best to stay away as long as he could. Maybe he was reading too much into things but the looks they gave each other, the sandwiches, the way rooms just seemed to be brighter whenever Mickey was in them... that all had to mean something right?

He had to remind himself over and over that he wasn't here for Mickey. He was here for Drew, to get to know Drew, to fall in love with Drew, but it just seemed impossible with a guy like Mickey around.

Mickey had wanted to say something. Ian saw it in his eyes, but they were both on the same rocky boat, unsure of where to put their feet so they wouldn’t be thrown overboard.

He heard an air horn go off in the house, indicating he had somewhere to be. Gathering his thoughts, he made his way to the foyer where the rest of the men were convening. As if they were magnets, Ian’s eyes instantly found Mickey casually leaning up against one of the many window sills.

“Gentlemen,” Ian heard the host announce as he took his seat on the couch next to Theo. “I know you were expecting a cocktail party this evening but to shake things up, and have a little fun, we’re going to have a pool party instead.”

There were the usual whoops and hollers echoing around the room and they lasted until Harrison raised his hand to silence them.

“So go get ready! Drew will be here soon. Let the fun begin!”

 

* * *

 

 

One of the few good things about living on the South Side was building up one’s tolerance for alcohol. Mickey couldn’t remember the first time he drank but he did remember the first time he got drunk.

He had been eleven years old when his oldest brother Jamie threw his first rager. Their father was back in prison and his mother was off doing god knows what. He remembered the way his head felt when he got that very first buzz, the way he felt like he was floating... not a care in the world.

It was also the night he realized he was into dudes but that was quickly pushed down and shoved back into the box where he kept that secret locked up for years to come.

Alcohol had helped him cope with a lot of things in his life that he felt like he didn’t have control over. Which when put into perspective wasn’t very much. So he would drink until he became numb. It was always easier to deal with things that way.

That’s why when the pool party started and the show’s crew members began pouring drink after drink down the contestants throats, Mickey had only a weak buzz forming while the others were sure to be kissing the porcelain throne tonight.

“Listen, listen to me!” He heard annoying asshole Nick shouting at the top of his lungs to absolutely no one. “I am the best match here for Drew; I mean I’m no drama, no drama at all. If he wants a real man he’ll pick me. You’ll see!”

Thankfully for Nick, Drew wasn’t around to hear any of his rambling. The Bachelor was too busy clearing the feud between Kyle and Evan to concern himself with Nick’s outrageous outbursts.

Earlier that week Evan had admitted to knowing Kyle before they came onto the show. They happened to share the same ex… two of them.

“He’s a fucking fake,” Evan exclaimed in the kitchen earlier that week. Mickey tried his best to escape having the conversation with him but he didn’t have anything better to do and no valid excuses came to mind as a reason for him to leave so he wouldn’t have to listen to the man’s ramblings.

“He stole my man from me TWICE and lied about it BOTH times. I know for a fact that he’s done it with plenty of other guys too. He doesn’t care about Drew he only gives a shit about how many assholes he can slip his dick into.”

Mickey could tell there was more but as soon as he spotted the crew member discreetly pointing the camera at them from the hallway Mickey figured out that half of the shit he was spewing was probably bullshit anyway. He was annoyed with the whiney bullshit and figured fuck having a valid excuse. He turned around and walked out of the kitchen midway through Evan's next sentence. It fit the “bad boy” personality they clearly wanted him to have anyway.

Mickey was nursing his beer next to the pool when he saw Drew come around the corner with a sullen looking Evan. Mickey quickly noticed the smug expression on Kyle’s face as he watched them from afar. _Douchebag._

Mickey took another long swig of his beer, turning to stare at Drew as the other man pulled his shirt over his head, the beginnings of a gorgeous sunset backlighting him perfectly for the cameras.

There was no denying that Drew looked great shirtless. Years of working on Daddy’s boats and being on the water polo team (whatever the fuck that was) had done his body good. Of course his admiration of Drew was fleeting because Ian chose that moment to fall into his line of sight, looking for all intents and purposes like he had just walked out of a Men’s Fitness magazine, the sunlight making his hair glow annoyingly perfect.

Mickey wanted to go talk to him but he knew he couldn’t. There were too many cameras around, too many people watching them and what the hell was he supposed to say anyway?  _I like what I see too Red_ _. I wanna see more. Let’s leave this fucking shit show and start our own thing._

He knew though, deep down, that it would never be that easy. Things were never that easy for a Milkovich.

“You okay, man?”

He didn’t even notice his other roommate had approached him until he had spoken. Besides Ian, Theo was the only guy at the mansion he had any actual conversations with beyond grunted responses. The rest of the men were too busy with their heads up their own asses or being in the middle of the bullshit drama that the producers instigated.

“Yep,” Mickey grunted, throwing back his head to chug the rest of his beer.

Theo laughed. The fucker was always fucking laughing. “You really are a man of few words, huh?”

Mickey shrugged, he didn’t mind the guy, he just wished he would mind his own business sometimes. “Never been much of talker. Not gonna ramble on just to fill the silence.”

“So… you and Ian seem to get along really well. Seem pretty friendly.”

Mickey felt his stomach drop. He looked around in a panic, half expecting to see a camera pointed at them and a boom mic behind them. They were alone though. Everyone, crew included seemed to be occupied. He glared at Theo, doing his best not to bring any attention on them, his free hand clenching into a fist as he whispered harshly, “The fuck is that suppose to mean?”

Theo raised his hands in surrender, turning to look at Mickey with honest eyes. “Hey I’m just saying you guys seem close that’s all! No needs to get so defensive. Damn man.”

Mickey took a deep breath to calm himself down. Theo didn’t seem to be like the other men who enjoyed the drama. There was no way his crush on Ian was that obvious. After all the years of being gay in the Milkovich house of horrors, he was a pro at hiding this kind of stuff.

“Sorry man,” Mickey grunted, swallowing deeply to try and further calm down his rapidly beating heart. “I uh, sometimes I jump the gun a little bit.”

Theo laughed again, but this time Mickey could hear the nervous edge to it. “Nah it’s okay, I get it.”

Mickey wanted to ask what exactly “it” was that Theo “got” but Drew’s loud laugh pulled his attention to the man still speaking with Nick. It reminded him that he needed to work on getting that rose at the end of the night; he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

Before he had to suffer through any more casual chit chat with Theo he decided to make his way towards Drew. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red hair but he refused to let himself look because he knew damn well he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away. The thought gave him an idea. Maybe he could secure that rose and rile the redhead up at the same time. The little bits of jealousy he'd seen from the man so far was turning it into one of his new found favorite hobbies.

“Hey Drew,” Mickey rasped, making the most of his Chicago accent which Drew had told him he found “mesmerizing.” He grabbed two beers from the cooler beside them, his eyes locking with Drew's as he used his ring to open them. He gave the bachelor a cocky smirk and he handed him an open beer, completely ignoring the annoyed expression on Nick’s face.

“We’re kinda talking here,” Nick whined, loud enough to pique the interests of a nearby crew member, a camera making its way over.

“And I kinda don’t care,” Mickey said, still keeping his eyes locked on Drew, his lips curled up in a sexy smirk. Nick let out an affronted gasp and turned to look desperately at Drew for reassurance.

It was almost too easy. Mickey knew there was something about himself that Drew was drawn too, and he dismissed Nick with an apologetic smile, the other contestant shooting Mickey a nasty glare which he responded to with a wink.

“Are you having fun Mick?” Drew asked, his brilliant smile doing Mickey no favors in settling his fluttering stomach. “I’m a bit disappointed I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you this week.”

Mickey did his best to push down his nerves and forget about the pair of green eyes he could still somehow _feel_ on his back.

Mickey tilted his head to the side and smirked. He could do this. He could totally fake this. “I know. Sucks. I just wanted to remind you I’m still here.”

“I couldn’t forget you if I tried Mickey.”

_Fuck this guy was good._

They continued without any interruption and much to Mickey’s surprise he was able to get lost in their conversation, even forgetting about his original intentions of getting a rise out of Ian.

Or at least he had until he felt something sharp and cold against his back.

“The fuck?!” he exclaimed, whipping around to see Michael K standing behind them with a big boyish grin across his lips and a water bazooka in his hands.

It must have gotten to Drew as well because Drew instantly shot off to chase Michael K into the pool. Mickey didn’t have a chance to dart out of the way before the massive splash soaked him from head to toe.

“Water fight!!” someone yelled from the distance, all hell breaking loose as the setting sun disappeared behind the horizon and the string lights all around the patio cast romantic shadows off of a shit ton of glistening male muscles.

Mickey wasn’t sure how he ended up in the pool but he found himself getting lost in the chaos, splashing around, arms and legs going everywhere. The men were all taking turns jumping onto the giant swan and unicorn floats, each and every one of them doing their best to get Drew’s attention.

The production crew brought out tray after tray of jell-o shots, encouraging them all to down them in rapid succession, and Mickey decided to indulge. Between the splashing around and the large amount of alcohol running through his system, he was finally starting to feel good. Really good.

A beach ball bopped him over the head so he grabbed it and whipped it at Nick's head, causing a violent but friendly game of catch to break out between him and the other contestants.

It became physical pretty quickly, guys pushing and pulling each other under water all over the place. Mickey didn’t know where his hands or his feet were going until he swam into a hard torso, grabbing onto a bicep to steady himself, his body pressed against the redhead's.

Mickey did his best to not react while also wondering if Ian could feel his heart racing in his chest.

_Keep it cool,_  he coached himself, _there are cameras everywhere_.

He didn’t mean for it to happen, but being so close to Ian’s slippery skin and seeing his freckles up close and clear as hell even in the twilight was enough to do Mickey in: he sighed, gripping the hard muscle under his fingers even tighter.

“Hand it over red!” He exclaimed, Ian holding the inflatable ball just out of Mickey’s reach, above and behind himself.

“You’re gonna have to come get it,” teased Ian, a drunken smile on his face, his eyebrows wiggling up and down flirtatiously.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey asked, never one to back down from a challenge. He gave Ian a chance to move but the ginger stood completely still. Mickey clicked his tongue, one eyebrow raised as he and the redhead stared each other down. Mickey sprung into action, pushing off the pool ground to jump onto him, his legs wrapping themselves around the redheads waist as he used his lower body strength to push up and reach the ball above Ian’s head. But Ian was stronger and was able to pin his arms down, Mickey thrashing around until he slipped out of Ian’s grip.

“Oh you are going down Army!” Mickey shouted, catching Ian in a head lock. The redhead couldn’t do much to fight back as he was laughing too hard to do more than keep his head above water. Every time Ian tried to push back Mickey would involuntarily pull him in closer and tighter.

“Come here Army!”

They wrestled around in the water, taking turns overpowering each other, the two of them forgetting where they were and who else they were with. They didn't have to be careful amidst the chaos going on in the water around them.

A happy shout from Drew was all it took to break the spell.

Ian froze mid hug, his strong arms wrapped tightly around Mickey's waist. Mickey's lifted his face from where it had been smushed into the soft skin of Ian’s neck as he felt the unmistakably hard bulge pressed into his stomach, his own erection pushing against Ian's thigh between his legs.

Mickey heard Ian’s breath hitch as they realized their mutual arousal and he was pretty sure he was no longer breathing even though the whole ordeal should have had him gasping for air.

Ian quickly extracted himself as Mickey stood in place, his heart hammering into full panic mode.

“Uh Mick, its okay.”

He couldn’t do this, he shouldn’t be doing this. This isn’t why he was here. He wasn't here for Ian. He’s fucking it all up.

“I gotta-“ he began as he turned to swim toward the stairs of the pool, reaching under the water to press his hard on into his waistband in an attempt to hide it, his nerves doing surprisingly little to make it go away.

“Mickey just wait!” Ian rasped out, reaching out to grab Mickey’s hip under the water, trying to get him to stop without drawing attention to them.

Mickey glanced nervously around the pool, his eyes finding Drew in the corner roughhousing with Michael K. There were three cameras still on the pool: they could have easily been spotted.

“Mickey…” he heard Ian beg.

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fucking fair.

“Just leave me alone, okay?” he whispered harshly, looking around once more to make sure the cameras were occupied before he looked back at Ian. “Don't follow me.”

He heard Ian say his name again but he couldn’t look back. He forced himself to get out of the pool calmly but swiftly, the slight stumble in his step reminding him how not sober he was. As soon as he was hidden behind the bushes lining the pool area he broke into a run towards the abandoned gazebo hidden in the shadows on the far side of the spacious backyard. He found himself feeling grateful for all the downtime they had: he never would have known it was here had he not come across it while running laps one day. When he reached the old structure he steadied himself against the wooden pillar at it's entrance and took slow steady breaths, willing the world to stop spinning.

He had been so stupid, so reckless. They had been lucky. One wrong move and who knew what would have happened, what the others would have seen. It would screw everything up and he somehow still had an aching hard on because of that damn ginger.

He palmed at his erection, pressing against it knowing damn well it wasn't going to go away that easily. His mind was betraying him with images of Ian’s slick wet skin, the feel of his strong pale arms wrapped around him. They had been so close. So fucking close.

He forced himself to take deep calming breaths, doing everything in his power to imagine the least sexy things in the world. It was beginning to work, his rock hard erection deflating into a still aching semi when he heard someone approaching.

“Mickey?”

His own rapidly beating heart lurched in panic before stopping all at once.

“You can’t be here man,” he replied to the voice in the darkness. He could hear the commotion still going on by the pool. It was only a matter of time until someone realized they were both gone.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Ian called softly, a slight slur in his voice. Mickey could see his silhouette getting closer, the moonlight reflecting off his hair, darkened from the water, pushed back off his forehead in a messy style that only made Mickey want him more.

“I’m fucking fine,” Mickey huffed. “I told you not to follow me Red. You need to leave.”

“I don’t want to,” Ian pleaded. He was close enough now for Mickey to see the water droplets still slowly dripping down his hard chest. “Mick, I fucking like you… and I know you feel it too.”

 

His smile was timid, but his eyes looked so affectionate and honest and open even in spite of his obviously inebriated state. Mickey couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him that way. Or if anyone had ever looked at him that way. It made him feel weird. It made him feel good. And all the tingly bullshit he had been feeling these past two weeks were now rushing through his body at full force. Ian was so close he could smell the chlorine coming off of his skin and Mickey never knew pool chemicals could smell so sexy.

He looked up into Ian’s eyes for a moment, before looking away again, fighting to get the words he wanted to say off his tongue.

“Yeah. You're uh, you’re not alone here. Trying real hard here not to feel like this. S’not going so well,” he huffed out with a nervous chuckle, running his hand through his own hair to calm himself. “But Ian, it doesn’t matter. We – we can’t do this.”

“I know,” Ian sighed, reaching out to trace the brunette’s jaw line with his thumb, sending chills down Mickey’s spine. He leaned into it, subconsciously stepping closer, his bare chest just shy of brushing against Ian's. “I know,” Ian repeated quietly, “but I had to tell you. Do you know how hard it is to be in the same room with you and not being able to tell you things? To not be able to be too close to you and touch you?” Mickey’s chest began to heave in anticipation, the adrenaline sobering him further as Ian leaned towards him, his eyes focused on Mickey's parted lips. “To not be able to…” Ian whispered, his voice fading as he closed the few inches of distance between them, their lower lips barely touching when muffled voices and the sound of twigs crunching caused them to spring apart.

“Shit,” Mickey hissed, he and Ian staring with wide eyes at each other before turning towards the sound. A few feet in front of them two camera men walked past the gazebo, too distracted to notice the terrified figures standing in the dark beneath it.

“Fuck that was close,” Ian whispered, watching the camera men turn the corner back towards the crew's trailers. He turned back to Mickey, stumbling slightly, his beautiful eyes pleading with him.

Mickey shook his head, taking a step back. “Ian this can’t happen, you and me, we aren’t here for each other.” He hated saying it. He wanted nothing more than to grab Ian and tell him exactly how much he wanted him and the pained look on Ian's face didn’t do anything to help.

Ian wiped his hand down his face and groaned miserably, “This sucks.”

“I know,” Mickey said, hating how defeated his voice sounded. “Maybe it’d be best if we just stay away from each other, remind ourselves why we came here in the first place.”

He knew Ian wanted to say something, his eyes blazing and jaw set stubbornly, but an air horn filled the air, signaling the men to return to the mansion and get ready for the ceremony.

“Ian, we have to,” Mickey pleaded. “I don’t want to but I can’t afford the fine if we get caught. And if we did get caught you know damn well they would make a huge fuckin deal of this and I’m not gonna be made out to be a fool of by these clowns. I don’t want them to make you out to be one either.”

Ian remained quiet, his eyes flashing back and forth between Mickey and the mansion until he let out a deep resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

Mickey looked over towards the pool area beyond the bushes. “We should probably get going. They’re gonna notice if two of the contestants are missing too long.”

Ian nodded. “I’ll go first so it doesn’t seem like we were together.”

“Good idea,” Mickey said. They exchanged one last look of longing before Ian turned. Mickey watched as he jogged back towards the mansion, his heart feeling heavier than ever.

 

Mickey received a rose that night, granting him another week. He allowed Drew to kiss him on the cheek and he put on his best smile but he wasn’t nearly as excited as he should be. He locked eyes with Ian as he made his way back to his spot, his jaw and cheek tingling where Ian’s thumb had caressed him, the redhead giving him a small, sad smile. He looked as good as ever in a simple light grey suit, the dark red rose pinned to his lapel, a reminder that Ian wasn’t his. Couldn’t be his.

Ian was right. This fucking sucked.

The ceremonies were finally starting to get shorter. Three more men went home tonight, one unsurprisingly being Evan who Mickey supposed was just too much drama for down to earth Drew. Only fourteen men left.

 

* * *

 

“Well we made it another week boys!” Theo shouted enthusiastically as the three of them made their way into their shared room. “And we get to go to Colorado next week? I can’t wait!”

Harrison had announced at the end of the ceremony that the 14 contestants and Drew would be traveling to some fancy ass ski resort. Mickey was feeling kind of excited. He loved the snow and the past few weeks made him realize that the California sun just wasn’t for him.

_Ian probably looked amazing in snow, his red hair standing out strikingly_ _up against a white blanket._

Mickey stole a glance at Ian when he had his back turned to undress. How the fuck was he supposed to stay away from this guy when he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“I need a fucking cigarette,” he muttered, hastily walking out of the room, ignoring Theo asking if he was okay.

He walked back down the stairs and out back onto the patio. Everyone had gone for the evening minus a few of the crew members who were finally walking off the premises. Mickey lit a cigarette and took a long drag, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before slowly exhaling into the night.

He had to laugh; of course this was his life. He meets a guy he can actually stand to be around, a guy who actually fucking likes him back and he can’t even have him. He took another drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it with resentment. Here he was yet again, playing a role that wasn’t really him. He thought he had escaped, thought he could actually be his fucking self. Instead he was pretending to want to be with someone when the person he really wanted was right in front of him. Of fucking course the universe needed to play one crueler joke on him.

_Fuck it._ He probably didn’t deserve the chance at happiness anyway. He took a deep defeated breath and turned back into the house. When he got to the room both men appeared to be asleep. He made sure his eyes didn’t linger too long on the bed that was across from his own as he slipped under the covers, cursing the universe once more for royally fucking him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, someone give Mickey a hug.
> 
> Also...sorry? But also not sorry.


	6. Week Three [Part One]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all. I am very sorry it took me like...a month to update this. This chapter was written then rewritten a few times and then I decided to add parts of chapter 6 to chapter seven because it was everything that I had plan for chapter six was becoming a bit much but I am very happy with how this chapter finally turned out. All thanks to my wonderful, beautiful kick ass editor and twitter bestie Kait of course :)
> 
> Also, I wanted to explain somethings that the non bachelor watchers may not know about the show. So how the show works is that the first few weeks. (I'll say Week One to Week Five) are pretty chaotic. There is 20-14 men (or women) all fighting for the bachelor/bachelorette's attention and the producers have to divide the time accordingly. So for the first five weeks there is usually two group dates and two single dates each week. So while it may seem like neither Ian and Mickey haven't gotten much time with Drew its because well... they haven't! Not yet anyways. :) By week 6 and 7 the dates become more frequent because there is less people.  
> I hope that all made sense, I'd be more than happy to answer anyone's questions if they have any. I'm doing my best to explain it all in the fic too so everything makes sense :)
> 
> Another thing. To make things easier to explain I will be telling you guys which contestants are still remaining. 2,3 and sometimes even 4 people go home each week during the first few weeks.
> 
> BACHELORS REMAINING
> 
> Ian Gallagher *  
> Mickey Milkovich *  
> Nicholas "Nick" Eddy *  
> Kyle Whalen *  
> Jerry Johnson *  
> Grant Wunderholden *  
> Micheal Kane (Micheal K) *  
> Micheal Wilton (Micheal W)  
> Theo Thomas *  
> Dustin Andrews *  
> Aaron Peters  
> Jack Hamilin  
> Brent Kawoski  
> Derek Thymer
> 
> *= These seven men will make it far and willl/ have been mentioned in the fic so far. The rest are just in the background.

Ian and the thirteen remaining men all stood in front of one of the most extravagant resorts he had ever laid eyes on.  They all had their best phony smiles plastered on their faces when in reality they were all exhausted. They took the redeye from LAX and arrived in Colorado three hours later only to be split up into two vans and left in them like sitting ducks for three _more_ hours until the crew had all arrived.

Now they were freezing in their light jackets and sweatpants waiting for the host to finish up with his monologue.

“Gentlemen! Enjoy your stay at the beautiful Four Seasons Resort!” Chris Harrison announced, throwing his arms up in a grand gesture.

Ian couldn’t deny that the hotel looked like something out of a travel magazine that he and Lip used to steal from the newspaper stand by the Kash and Grab. Ian remembered idly flipping through the pages wondering what it would be like to visit some of the places featured in the publication. Now, as he was joining in on the fake jubilant cheers with the rest of the contestants he couldn’t believe he had actually been given the chance to spend two weeks at a resort like this.

The Four Seasons was nestled in Vail, Colorado. Surrounded by snowcapped mountains and evergreen trees, the Chateau Style resort was absolutely breathtaking. Inside, the lobby was filled with dark, warm homey tones. Deep mahogany floors spread across the space, masonry walls were met by a trenched ceiling and a gigantic roaring fireplace set everything in the vast room aglow. It was a beautiful, magical and perfect romantic place to possibly fall in love with someone.

It had been two days… Forty-eight hours since he had almost kissed Mickey underneath the old abandoned gazebo. Just two days since Mickey shut him down.

He couldn’t be too upset; he was just as confused about his feelings as Mickey seemed to be. He had come here to fall for one particular person but now he couldn’t get his fellow contestant to leave his mind.

He had to respect Mickey’s wishes and if Mickey wanted them both to move forward with this crazy show then he would.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mickey being pestered by one of Olivia’s assistants. He was wearing his raggedy grey hoodie and poorly fitting old jeans that Ian knew damn well did no favors for Mickey’s plump ass. Mickey rolled his eyes as the assistant berated him about his reaction (or lack thereof) to the resort. Even though Ian couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, by the disappointed and slightly startled look on the girl’s face, Ian was sure it was something ever so colorful and ever so Mickey.

“Yo, Ian!” Theo shouted, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked over at Theo as he handed him a keycard. “Look man, I’m rooming with Nick, so you can stay with Mickey.”

Ian stared at Theo, trying his best not to look too panicked... or too excited, he wasn’t sure which emotion he was fighting.

“Um,” Ian began, already failing at casual. “I thought we were rooming together?”

They had discussed it briefly yesterday while packing. As much as he wanted to room with Mickey, he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea. Especially if they were trying to keep their distance. Which Ian was totally fine with. And definitely didn’t hate. Completely.

Theo laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “First of all, both of you constantly kept me up with your tandem snoring. I need my sleep. And second, ya’ll have got to fix whatever lover’s quarrel you have going on.”

Ian tried to keep his chest from heaving as his anxiety rose. _No fucking way he knew something was going on between them._

Theo leaned in to whisper to Ian, “You don’t want anyone on production to think you guys have beef, they’re vultures man. They’ll soak up whatever is going on between you two and make it a bigger thing than it already is.”

Ian swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, willing himself to relax. “Oh. Yeah,” he said, almost too casually, with a wave of his hand. ”We’ll work it out. I just uh, I said something that I think pissed him off.”

Theo chuckled. “That guy is always mad about something.” He pressed the keycard gently into Ian’s chest. “Hopefully you guys can work things out… and maybe cheer each other up too.” He finished with a wink, leaving a bewildered Ian in his place.

_Shit_ .

He felt a tug on his arm and he huffed in annoyance at the sudden interruption of what may be the start of a crisis.

“Ian?” Kathy asked. (Or was it Kelly? All the assistants were beginning to blend together.)

“Yeah?” Ian replied, giving his best fake smile.

“Can you tell us why this place makes you think of Drew?” She asked, holding up a massive microphone, the camera angled directly at his face. “And tell us how excited you are to continue this journey with Drew?”

The last thing Ian wanted to do after hours of travel, no sleep, and the possibility of his and Mickey’s… thing being known by Theo was answer these pointless questions but he knew he had no choice. He turned to get one last look at Mickey, their eyes meeting, the brunette’s face expressionless.

It stung at Ian’s heart a little. He couldn’t help but feel rejected by the brunette. He knew the word “rejected” was a little bit on the extreme side for someone he had only known for two weeks. Mickey had every right to not want to risk everything they would have to risk but it still left Ian reminiscing of all the times he had thought he found something good only to find out he was the side piece, over and over again.

No. It wasn’t like that with Mickey. This was more complicated than that. This involved contracts and scary tv lawyers and thousands of dollars in fines for both of them. And Mickey wasn’t those married men. It wasn’t like that.

But it still hurt.

He took a deep breath, letting it out to try and release the pressure building in his chest as he plastered the fake smile onto his face and responded to the petite, anxious women in front of him.

______________________________________________

Ian knew Mickey was expecting him when he walked into the room. Mickey remained sitting on the bed he had chosen for himself, giving Ian the one by the patio door. He nodded at Ian then quickly looked down at the floor. Fuck. Ian didn’t want it to be this way. He wanted to talk to Mickey, bullshit with him like they had been doing for the past two weeks. The fantasies of kissing Mickey would have to go on the back burner for now.

“This is nice,” Ian said all too cheerfully as he laid his bag down, strolling casually past Mickey. The room was massive, with two large queen size beds, a bathroom to his left that looked like some kind of mini spa, a kitchenette on his right and two mahogany French doors that overlooked the mountain side of the resort. He used both hands to open the doors, a blast of crisp mountain air blowing over him, sending goose bumps over his body. The view was breathtaking being up this high, the air so much crisper than anywhere he’d ever been so far.

“Mickey,” he called out over his shoulder, “Come out here, you gotta see this.”

“I can see it from here Red.”

 Ian turned to see Mickey sitting on the edge of his own bed, arms leaning against his thighs as he continued to stare intensely at the floor.

“Mickey,” Ian sighed, turning to face him. “It doesn’t have to be like this, we don’t have to just ignore each other.”

Finally Mickey looked up, only to scoff and shake his head. “Well, what the fuck else are we supposed to do Ian?”

“I don’t know,” Ian shrugged hopelessly. “Try to be friends?”

Mickey traced his eyebrow with the back of his thumb. He sighed deeply before burying his face into his hands. “I didn’t come here to make friends, Red.”

“Well I didn’t either but if we go from being friendly and hanging out to you not even being able to look at me people will know something’s up.”

“So Theo didn’t want to room with you either, huh?” Mickey asked suddenly.

Ian paused, leaning against the dresser by the TV. “Why did he say something to you?”

Mickey shrugged. “When I asked he said you and I needed to work out our issues. I don’t know what the guy is fucking on. Do you think he saw something with us? Knows we were, ya know…” Mickey waved his hand back and forth between their bodies, seemingly trying to indicate the unnamable “thing” between them.

“He…” Ian hesitated. Mickey raised his eyebrows, waiting for his response. “He might. But Theo doesn’t come off as the type of guy that would cause drama. I think we’re okay.”

Mickey chewed on his lip, his eyes flickering from Ian back to the wall before finally speaking. “Aight, if you think so.”

“So,” Ian said, uncrossing his arms. “friends?”

Mickey let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s how it’s gotta be.”

Ian’s face lit up, a smile breaking out, his spirits instantly lifted again.  “I knew you thought I was irresistible,” he flirted, unable to help himself; after all, he was only human.

Mickey scoffed and waved him away, but Ian could see him fighting a smile.“Oh fuck off. You’re just persistent if anything.”

“That is true.”

Mickey halted and studied his tatted up fingers on his bag for a moment before turning to meet the redhead’s eyes.  “We’re gonna need some room rules though.”

“Rules?” Ian asked hesitantly, feeling his heart deflate just a bit.

“Yeah rules! Like no more fucking walking around here in just your boxers. Clothes gotta be on at all times.”

And his heart swelled back to its original form. “So you _do_ find me irresistible.”

He watched as Mickey bit his lip to try and hide his smile but there was no hiding the sudden blush that was creeping up his neck. “Hey, it applies for me too.”

“Fine,” stated Ian, crossing his arms and taking a step towards Mickey. Two could play at this game. “No more working out in front of me then.”

That made Mickey smirk, his eyes sparkling as he looked over Ian’s face, subconsciously drifting towards him. “Pull ups turn ya on Red?”

_A lot of things about you turn me on,_ he kept himself from saying aloud. “You could say that.”

“Same to you then, don’t need to see you working up a damn sweat anymore than I already have.”

Ian was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, his heart bursting at the brunette admission. “You been watchin’ me?”

Mickey rolled his eyes while giving Ian his middle finger, “Fuck off.” 

Ian just smiled wider at that, reaching out to grab Mickey’s finger in his fist.  Mickey glanced over his shoulder at the clock. “Shit we gotta get up to the penthouse.”

Then, right on schedule, reality set in. Ian’s face fell slightly as he realized it was time to go find out who would be on the first group date for the week.

“Yeah. Yeah we should go,” Ian responded, releasing Mickey’s finger and nodding a bit too enthusiastically. He saw the quick flash of disappointment in Mickey’s face before he turned away. Ian had to remind himself once again why he was here.

He walked over to the door and glanced back to where Mickey was still picking out a shirt. “I’ll see you up there, okay?”

Mickey smiled as he looked over at him but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, a drastic difference from the smile he had a moment before. “Yeah, Red. See ya up there.”

 

* * *

 

The rules he and Ian had laid out were working out horrendously.

Sure they were keeping their space with each other and since it was already incredibly chilly even in early October, they were no longer walking around the room half naked, but certain… incidents kept happening. 

The resort had its own gym so they could both go work out individually, but day one Ian came back into the room, his tank top covered in sweat, arms glistening and his sweatpants drawing Mickey’s eyes south like a moth to a flame. Mickey tried to concentrate on the book in his hands as Ian grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom, but he knew he was being anything but subtle. And when Ian laughed at him, Mickey gave up pretending he wasn’t looking, huffing in frustration and throwing the book at a cackling Ian as he closed the bathroom door.

Day two Mickey woke up in the middle of the night needing to piss. On his way back from the bathroom he couldn’t help but to glance over at a sleeping Ian laying out on his back. He wore shorts and a t-shirts (rules!), but the sliver of moonlight from between the closed curtains shined over him; one hand curled against his pale cheek, his lips parted slightly as he took deep calm breaths; He looked fucking angelic. It took everything Mickey had in him to resist running his fingers over the soft skin of his cheek.

Even in their day to day interactions it wasn’t easy to act normal when Red flashed him his big goofy grin whenever Mickey made a joke or for him to resist reacting to how good Ian smelled when he was fresh out of the shower. It was even harder to be distracted because he wasn’t able to see Drew at all this week. It was only day three at the resort, but he hadn’t been picked for the group date this week. There was still time for him to be picked for the second group date and there was the possibility for another individual date. There were still fourteen total men left so it wasn’t such a bad thing that he hadn’t had much time with Drew since their one on one date.

Yet.

According to a conversation he had with Ian and Theo (who had way more insight into this damn show than anyone should have) it was a good sign that he and Ian had been chosen as two of the very first one on one dates. Something about the audience would remember them better and build a connection with them.

What the fuck ever that meant. Mickey made it pretty clear he could care less about making millions of sad house wives happy. That’s not why he was here.

Yeah so Mickey Milkovich really did want to have someone he could potentially fall in love with. What was so wrong with that?

He rubbed his tired eyes as he laughed at himself. When the fuck did he get so soft? He continued to play around with his camera out of boredom, taking random shots of the sun coming through the blinds and the mountains through the French doors when there was a quick knock at the door.

Mickey groaned, not wanting to get out of the comfortable bed. He cursed out whomever was behind the door, hoping it wasn’t one of the other guys wanting him to “bond” with them or some shit. Or worse yet, one of the crew members wanting him to do another damn interview.

He opened the door to a petite brunette smiling wearily at him. Mickey sighed; he didn’t feel like doing this shit today... or ever. He hadn’t been able to sleep much the past few days.

“Hey Mickey, how are you feeling today?”

Mickey paused, wondering how these people can be so damn cheery all the time. It had to be something with the California sun melting their brains.

“Uh, good?” he shrugged. “What’s up?” She was alone, no cameramen in sight, which had Mickey wondering what the hell was going on.

“Kim wants to talk to you,” She said, still not breaking her way too bright smile. “Just follow me and you can meet her in the conference room.”

Before he could ask who the hell this Kim chick was the young woman was already halfway down the hallway. Mickey hastily followed her into the elevator and to the other side of the resort where the business rooms and function halls were. The woman finally stopped and smiled at him, gesturing to the door beside her as if he’d never seen one closed before.

“Just go on in, Kim is waiting for you.”

“Okay but who is she?” Mickey asked. “Is this like an interview?”

The girl smiled again but this time it had an uncomfortable edge to it. “She’s the executive producer of the show Mickey. She likes to talk to each contestant individually just to you know...” she scrunched her nose, shrugging like it was obvious, “get to know them?”

 Mickey nodded, still not quite understanding, the woman opening the door to allow him in.

As soon as he saw her, he remembered.

He remembered the bitch from his final interview for the show. She had been sitting next to the blonde chick and while the blonde chick was annoying as fuck with her shallow questions, this woman was on a whole nother level. A wave of uneasiness rushed over him as he walked into the large, cold meeting room. Kim was the only one in the room, sitting in a chair at the middle of the lacquered wood table, ten more empty chairs spread out around it, her smile tight. Mickey wasn’t sure if the sudden chill he got from being in there was from the cold outside or the icy look in her eyes.

“Ah! Mikhalio. Have a seat.”

“It’s Mickey,” he stated pulling the plastic and roller chair out and sitting. He stared back at the executive producer, matching her stony expression. In front of her was a yellow folder, Mickey’s full name printed neatly across the top.

“Yes, Mickey. Of course,” the women said. She opened the folder and analyzed the first page. “I see you were born in Chicago… South Side, huh?”

“Yup,” Mickey nodded, with an emphasized pop at the end.

“Mother, rumored drug addict…deceased. Father, in prison several times for drugs and violent crimes… and now deceased.”

“What does that have to do anything?” Mickey asked, looking down at the papers Kim had taken out. He couldn’t make sense of it all but from the looks of it his entire life history seemed to fill out three pieces of paper for anyone to read. He knew they had done background checks on everyone but he couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else’s file was equally as full.

Kim ignored Mickey’s question and continued to speak, “It must have been hard growing up in such a hostile environment.”

Mickey shrugged, resisting the urge to physically squirm in his seat. “I got out of it. Hostile environments are the norm where I’m from.”

Kim nodded condescendingly. “Right, a photographer in New York now. That really is something.”

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” Mickey stated, trying to keep his steadily rising irritation at bay, “but what does this have to do with me being on the show?”

“You know, I’m glad you asked,” Kim replied, shuffling the papers in her hands into a neat, straight pile. “Olivia and the rest of my assistants love the sob stories; they soak them up, more than they should.” She shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “They want to find the ones that will make good TV. The ones that have “raw emotion” or whatever it is that you kids say these days.”

Mickey’s gut clenched, remembering his final interview where the blonde chick was absolutely gushing over him and his “raw edginess.” And he fucking fell for it.

“The thing is Mikhalio,” Kim sighed, looking at him over her thick framed glasses, “We're here to sell good TV and for that we need to find the right people.

All Mickey could do was raise an eyebrow, still not sure what this middle aged bitch was getting at but whatever it was the uneasy tightness of his stomach only elevated.

“Everybody loves the “bad boy” Mickey. Everyone loves the rough and tumble, wrong side of the tracks, takes no shit tough guy. Everyone will surely root for you… for the time being. But please know that just because you escaped your horrific past does not change who you are as person. The audience will still see you as the thug from the violent streets of the South Side of Chicago; you’re a good story Mickey, but perhaps not the best pick for our Bachelor.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey seethed, jaw clenched his fist tight on the table, trying his best to keep his voice calm and even. “And why’s that?”

“Do you really think Drew would want to end up with someone who he has nothing in common with? Someone who has as much baggage as you do?” She asked, barely trying to contain the smug smile taking over her features. If she wasn’t a woman, and it was ten years earlier, Mickey wouldn’t have thought twice before punching the look right off her face. He looked away, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “You really think a guy like Drew would end up making you a priority? He needs someone who he can see as an equal. Sorry honey, but with your background… that’s difficult to do when someone is so easily disposable.”

Mickey’s eyes were burning holes through the table. He wanted to say something back, anything at all to defend himself but his throat was closing in on him with the inevitable truth.

He wasn’t good enough; he’d never be good enough.

“Then why the fuck am I here?” He asked calmly, looking up at the heinous women, not wanting to give the bitch the satisfaction of knowing she got under his skin.

“Like I said Mikhalio, everyone loves a good story, everyone has a role here and soon enough Drew will understand yours. He may not see it now because he’s distracted by your pretty blue eyes and your fervid attitude, _but_ …” her eyes moved down to his tatted knuckles, now a stark white from him clenching his fist so hard, “the appeal will burn out.”

He sat there staring blankly at her, her words spinning around and around his brain.

_So easily disposable._

She broke the silence by clasping her hands together, her condescendingly cheery voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Well I think that’s it! You may go Mikhalio; enjoy the rest of your time here! I’m sure it’s nicer than anywhere else you’ve ever stayed.”

He nodded his tongue heavy in his mouth as his blood began to rush with rage. He numbly got out of the uneven legged chair and exited the room. He doesn’t remember the walk back to the hotel room; his body working on auto pilot, her words digging into his skin one fucking syllable at a time.

As the door to his room clicked shut behind him, he reached into the mini bar and found the amber liquid he was looking for; Jack Daniel’s, medicine of choice for his past self. Knowing damn well he had no use for a glass, he took a swing of the bottle feeling the alcohol burn down this throat. It felt good. He missed being numb. Why shouldn’t he? After all he was disposable, just like the cheap brown liquid in the glass bottle.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Goddamn I’m sore,” Nick complained, shaking out his legs. “Horses fucking suck.”

“Your horse just hated you,” Ian laughed, as they walked through the lobby. “The instructor kept telling you to relax. You just didn’t listen.”

“How can you possibly relax on a 1,200 pound animal that can buck you into oblivion?” Nick asked scrunching up his nose. “Not to mention they smell like shit.”

Ian shrugged, moving out of the way to allow the other guys behind the pair to enter the elevator first. “I don’t think it was so bad.”

“Oh yeah? Your horse was nice to you! It nuzzled you! What are you the male version of Snow White?”

Ian snickered at the shorter man, “Are you just mad you didn’t receive the date rose?”

The other men in the elevator all groaned at that. Grant (Mr. Eggplant man) had snagged the date rose and was granted extra time with Drew, the six other men on the group date getting sent back to the resort.

“I think they’re going to announce who gets the one on one date card tonight. Want to take any bets on who gets it?” Kyle asked.

“I hope its Theo,” Ian stated. “He hasn’t had a one on one date yet.”

“Psh. Watch it be Jerry,” Nick groaned several other moans and sniggers erupting throughout the elevator.

“Is there a cleaning product convention around here they can go to?” Kyle asked as the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival to the 6th floor.

Ian stepped through the doors hoping he would find Mickey in their room. He knew he had to keep his distance because that’s what Mickey had asked of him but he couldn’t help the buzz that swam through him every time he was around the guy. It was like being high, it kept him crawling back for more; he needed Mickey hits throughout the day to keep him going.

“Hey Ian,” Nick shouted down the hall. “You meeting up with us later? I think we’re just ordering pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Ian replied, turning back towards them while searching his pockets for his keycard. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

He entered his and Mickey’s room, stopping abruptly when he saw the brunette laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, a bottle of Jack Daniels laying half empty on the nightstand that separated the two beds.

Mickey turned his head slowly towards Ian, his eyes glassy and puffy.

“Oh. Hey.” The brunette greeted his voice rough.

“Hey…” Ian responded carefully, assessing Mickey, who looked extremely worse for wear. “What’s up? Are you okay?” He then reached around and clicked off his mic while carefully taking it off and tossed in onto his bed all without taking his eyes off Mickey. He had a feeling Mickey didn’t want anything to be picked up by the producers.

Mickey didn’t seem to have heard Ian’s question or he was ignoring him, Ian couldn’t tell which. He simply turned his head to continue staring at the ceiling. “How was your date?”

His voice sounded so miserable it clenched at Ian’s heart. “Don’t worry about my date,” he said walking up to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “What’s going on Mick?”

Mickey slowly sat up, squeezing his eyes shut as he mirrored Ian’s position, sitting on the edge next to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before muttering softly, “Why the fuck am I here, Ian?”

“What do you mean why are you here? You know why you’re here.”

A hysterical laugh erupted out of Mickey, taking Ian by surprise. “Yeah to be a fucking stand in until they don’t need me anymore. Until Drew doesn’t need me anymore. Fuck that bitch is right. Who wants some street thug that runs away from all of his problems anyway?” He stood up abruptly and grabbed the bottle off of the nightstand. Ian reached over and tugged the bottle out of Mickey’s hand,  the brunette too inebriated to fight back, before placing it back on the table. He stood and reached for Mickey’s shoulders but the shorter man shoved his hands off.

“Get off of me,” Mickey snapped, brushing past him to grab his cigarettes off of the TV stand.

“You’re not a thug Mickey. Look at everything you’ve got now! You have a legit job and your photography. I’m sure Drew doesn’t care about who you used to be. That’s in the past.”

Mickey shook his head. “He doesn’t even fucking know! But I bet as soon as he learns that I’m just another piece of South Side trash he’ll kick me to the curb.”

“Mick I grew up South Side too, I’m not any more-“

“Oh please, fucking look at you man! Yeah you grew up there but now you’re like a polished fucking penny all shiny and new and shit.  They fucking love you.”

“They?” Ian asked, furrowing his brow at Mickey. “Who's ‘they’?”

“The fucking crew, that blonde chick, that Kim bitch…”

“This is where all this shit’s coming from?” Ian gasped. “What the hell did they say to you?”

Mickey shrugged. “Same shit I’ve been hearing my whole life man. I can try all I want to better myself and it still isn’t gonna be enough. It’ll never be fucking enough.”

Ian approached him, closing the space Mickey had put between them. “You can’t listen to them Mickey, they’re saying all of this to get inside your head.”

Mickey scoffed, waving the unlit cigarette in his hand.”They're fucking right though.”

“They want to get a reaction out of you Mickey,” Ian explained calmly. “They want you to get all riled up and jeopardize your relationship with Drew.” He tentatively put his hands on the man’s shoulders, this time Mickey didn’t push them away but instead looked wearily at the redhead as he continued. “You can’t let them get to you!”

Ian watched as Mickey clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I knew this shit was too good to be true. Thinkin’ I could come on a fuckin’ TV show and fall in love or some shit. Have someone fall in love with me.”

It pained Ian to see Mickey like this. How could this man not see how amazing he was? How had one conversation with one person made him question all the things he had worked for. All the things he had to offer? Ian knew he shouldn’t say what was so heavy on his heart but he had to do something, _anything_ , to get these poisonous thoughts out of Mickey’s head.

“Mickey, I see the way Drew looks at you. He doesn’t see some street thug. Believe me, I know what he sees.”

“How do you know what he sees?” Mickey asks quietly, his eyes surprisingly clear in his tortured state. He looks so small, so vulnerable, so very unlike the confident man Ian’s used to seeing and he feels himself falling just a little bit harder.

Ian smiles softly at the brunette. “Because unless he’s an idiot or blind, he sees someone who worked hard for what he’s got. A man who doesn’t take shit from anyone no matter how powerful or superior they think they are. He sees an amazing, witty, hot as hell, fucking hilarious guy who-“

He couldn’t finish his sentence because Mickey surged forward and pressed their lips together roughly, pushing himself to Ian's body, pulling him in as close as possible. Mickey’s hands cupped Ian’s face, as Ian grasped the back of the brunette’s head with one hand, the other wrapping around his waist. The kiss gradually softened, their parted lips molding and moving together. The kiss is slow and soft and perfect and went on for so long he lost all sense of time, Mickey’s hands warm against his face, his body pressed so perfectly against his own.

It was more than Ian had ever expected to happen and at the same time it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, his body begged for more even as Mickey let go, pulling off of Ian. They stayed wrapped together, their lips just barely grazing each other as Ian looked into Mickey’s blazing eyes.

Ian reached up and traced the shorter man’s jaw line with his finger tips, their noses gently bumping together. “Holy fuck,” He heard himself whispering, not fully in control of himself yet. He could feel his and Mickey’s hearts harmonically pounding where their chests pressed together.

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed, rubbing his lip with his thumb as he took a step back, freeing himself from Ian’s embrace and looking far more sober than he had moments before. “Fuck.”

“Mick,” Ian pleaded, the taste of Jack Daniels lingering on his lips. “I know you said we couldn’t do this, and I’m not sure how much of what you just did was motivated by Jack over there but I don’t think I can walk around here pretending there’s nothing going on between us. I like you so fucking much. And that was… damn that was a really good kiss.”

Mickey’s eyes alternated between Ian and the floor as he bit down on his lower lip. They stood there in silence, Ian taking Mickey in and waiting as he took a few deep breaths and appeared to be thinking it over.

Finally, Mickey said something but it was so faint Ian’s ears barely caught it.

“What was that?” Ian asked hesitantly.

Mickey eyes snapped back up to Ian’s, a hunger in them that made Ian’s mouth water in anticipation.

“I said come here,” Mickey replied gruffly, his intent loud and clear this time, taking two strides to close the distance between them, grabbing Ian and capturing his lips with his own once more.

It was immediately rough, needy and all consuming. Ian’s hands couldn’t stop roaming Mickey’s clothed body, desperate to feel the hard muscle he had spent so much time admiring. Every touch was hypnotic, every swipe of their tongues electric. Ian grabbed Mickey’s hips and shoved him up against the balcony door, both men grunting at the impact.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous, Mick,” Ian breathed as he tugged the collar of Mickey’s white cotton undershirt over his shoulder, nipping gently at the brunette’s collar bone, “You're so good. So hot.”

The moan that came out of Mickey was almost enough to do Ian in. He wanted more, he needed more.  His hand drifted down Mickey’s torso, fingertips bunching the hem of his undershirt to tease at the flesh underneath. He could feel Mickey shiver in response, encouraging Ian to continue past the waistband of his sweatpants, palming lightly at Mickey’s growing erection before giving a gentle squeeze, which earned him a breathless whispered “fuck” from the brunette.

Ian sank to his knees, his gaze not breaking contact with the lust blown blue eyes.

“Can I?” Ian asked his voice raspy with desire.

Mickey nodded frantically, “Yes, yes please, fuck.”

Ian wasted no time. With one swipe he stripped Mickey’s sweatpants along with his boxers down to Mickey’s ankles. Mickey’s cock was… absolutely perfect. The right length and thickness and curved ever so slightly. Ian reached a hand out to gently curl around the silky flesh, pumping gently as he licked his lips in anticipation.

Ian stuck out his tongue, swirling it around the plump head before slipping it into his mouth, immediately taking him in halfway. Mickey urged him on with a throaty groan, fingers tangling in red hair and pressing gently, coaxing Ian to go deeper.

Ian pressed his head down until his lips met his hand, cheeks hallowing to increase the suction as he began bobbing up and down Mickey’s hard cock, his hand keeping constant pressure wherever the wet heat of his mouth could not reach.

A ragged gasp came out of Mickey, encouraging Ian to pump faster. “Jesus, fuck, Ian that’s feels so good.”   

Ian could taste the saltiness of Mickey’s pre cum on his tongue, his unoccupied hand gripping hard onto Mickey’s hip.  The noises coming from Mickey were intoxicating and the twitch of his cock in Ian’s mouth sent a jolt straight to the redhead’s now aching hardness. Unable to resist any longer, he released Mickey’s cock from his mouth. Keeping his spit wet hand moving steadily, he used his free hand to quickly undo his own pants, freeing his cock to desperately tug at it looking up at the panting, lusty eyed Mickey with a sultry smile.

“Come up here,” Mickey demanded. “Get up here now.”

Ian didn’t need to be told twice. He met Mickey with a wet, swollen lipped kiss, their bodies jolting with energy as their dicks rubbed against each other. Ian pulled back to spit into his right hand, holding it out for Mickey to do the same before grasping both their cocks, pumping furiously until a fire was pooling low in his abdomen, burning and burning until he combusted, his pleasure spilling over both of them. Ian groaned as he finished, releasing himself, his cum making his frantically pumping hand slid easily over Mickey’s silky flesh. It only took a few more pulls and one final grunt and the brunette fell over the edge.

Ian’s forehead fell onto Mickey's, his grip on Ian’s biceps near painful as he panted and shook through the remains of his intense orgasm. 

Mickey leaned in closer to Ian, placing a kiss onto his collar bone before nuzzling into his chest. They stood there for awhile, Mickey allowing Ian to hold him and in that moment Ian had never felt more content… until the sticky cooling cum on his hands and torso became impossible to ignore any longer.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” Ian laughed lightly, nuzzling into Mickey’s neck and planting a kiss against it.  _God he smelled so unbelievably good._

Mickey pulled away, his eyes softer than Ian had ever seen them; the traces of wretchedness had faded. “Yeah, we probably should.”

Ian released himself from Mickey’s embrace and went into the bathroom to wet two towels. He handed one to Mickey while he wiped up his own mess.

“So, uh…” Mickey sighed, bending to pull up his sweatpants. “So much for keeping our distance.”

Ian swallowed nervously, hoping and praying Mickey didn’t regret what had just happened. He stared at the brunette until he finally met his gaze. Ian felt as if his heart could burst when he saw Mickey give him a coy smile.

“Thanks. For sayin what you did. Means a lot,” Mickey said, awkwardly rubbing his neck before continuing. “Sorry, I don’t really know what else to say here, man.”

Ian stared hard into Mickey’s eyes, wanting him to knew he meant every word he was about to say. “I’m not sorry this happened Mickey.”

He watched as Mickey sighed, biting and licking at his bottom lip. Ian was half tempted to kiss the worried look off his face but decide maybe it was best not to right at this moment. 

“I’m not sorry either,” Mickey replied softly, the look on his face melting Ian.“It probably shouldn’t happen again though.”

“…Probably?” Ian repeated contemplatively, stepping closer but still keeping some distance, his head tilted to the side. “Does that mean it may happen again?” his voice laced with playful innocence.

Mickey smiled down at the floor then looked back up at Ian, his face a full on blush, filling Ian’s heart to the brim with adoration.

Mickey shook his head, his smile not faltering. “You’re a fucking dick.”

Ian smirked, he couldn’t help himself. “I do a pretty good job at _sucking_ dick too.”

That gained him a heavy eye roll from the brunette. “Fuck off.”

Ian bit back another retort deciding they had enough back and forth for one day. They stood in silence, drinking each other in for a moment, neither of them knowing how exactly to move forward from here, but Ian knew the ball was in Mickey’s court now. 

Mickey stepped forward, closing the distance between them and cupping Ian’s face with his hands, placing a soft kiss on Ian’s lips. He pulled back, Ian’s lips tingling, craving for more. They were still so close, Mickey’s hand gently holding Ian’s face before giving it a playful pat.

“We’ll see what happens Red.”

It was all Ian could hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ......
> 
> :)
> 
> Tell me what y'all think!


	7. Week Three [Part Two]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so SO sorry this has taken so long to update. Life really got in the way this time and there is a lot going on in this chapter I wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect before I published it! It's 13K words so its quite a doozey. The following chapters shouldn't be this long but I cant promise anything. I just love writing these boys and this story is so much fun. 
> 
> We are still in week three so the same bachelors that were remaining in the last chapter still are here in the next. From here on out the chapters should just be one week. Maybe. We will see. ;)
> 
> As usual....this work is beta's by the one and only Kait. 
> 
> AND BEFORE WE CONTINUE.....  
> CAN I GET A HELL FUCKING YEAH FOR MICKEY COMING BACK?????? GALLAVICH SEASON 10 YALL!
> 
> anways. enjoy.

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this thing,” Mickey grumbled into the mirror, giving his hair one more look through. Watching Mickey do this gave Ian a twinge of jealousy that he couldn’t help. Drew wasn’t even going to be there tonight since Theo finally got his one on one date with him. The contestants were beginning to feel restless and trapped in the beautiful resort, so Nick had the bright idea of having a party after finding out the crew was short staffed so no crew would be around to film them.

“You know they’re gonna have hidden cameras everywhere right?” continued Mickey. “There’s a reason why that crew member told Nick they would be gone.”

Ian only nodded, momentarily distracted by how good Mickey’s ass looked in his jeans. It had been exactly twenty-four hours since he was down on his knees taking in Mickey’s cock. Twenty-four hours since he and Mickey had been enveloped in each other.

In his opinion, it was twenty-four hours too long.

He gave Mickey his space after their tryst; they didn’t talk much when they had gone upstairs to meet the rest of the contestants and the crew. A sickening feeling had washed over Ian when they walked into the room and he saw the camera crew waiting for them, watching Mickey like a hawk aimed at their prey. They knew the Kim bitch had spoken to Mickey and they were hoping he would have some type of reaction, like demanding to speak to Drew or punching someone out of anger. He didn’t though, he walked in front of Ian into the pent house with his usual could care less attitude and paid the crew no mind. The stunned expression on their faces was enough to know their plan didn’t work the way they thought it would. That alone made Ian’s heart swell with pride.

That feeling lasted way beyond the morning when he had awakened to Mickey being out of his bed and nowhere to be seen. He saw that Mickey had taken his camera bag and that’s when curiosity swept over Ian. He knew the view from their balcony was spectacular as it looked over a good chunk of the resort, so he pushed himself out of bed, grabbing his grey hoodie off the floor (because he guessed they still had to follow the ‘rules’ that they had established) and padded his way out to their balcony.

Resting his arms against the railing he took in the beautiful frost bitten world around him. Being out there did wonders to help clear one’s mind so no wonder Mickey needed an escape and what better place to do it? He let out a heavy sigh, watching as his visible breath dissolved into the morning sky. Ian didn’t want to say he was confused because he knew he wasn’t. He knew exactly what and who he wanted and he was willing to play the game until he couldn’t anymore in order to stay near him.

The only problem was that he didn’t know when the game would end and what to do if he got to that point.

“Red? You okay man?”

“Oh shit,” Ian muttered, wondering how long he had been lost in his own thoughts. His eyes focused again on Mickey who looked sexy as fuck in his navy blue Henley and his usual dark jeans. If he had any hint of arousal on his face it was all Mickey’s fault. “Yeah, yeah just um… distracted.”

“You gotta keep it together man,” Mickey laughed as he grabbed their keycard of the dresser. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Ian sighed all of a sudden not wanting to be part of tonight’s festivities. “Guess we should go.”

“Dude, you were begging me to go with you a couple hours ago and now you don’t want to?”

“We can’t just not go Mick,” Ian explained as he put on his jacket. “Like you said there’ll probably be cameras there. It’d be suspicious as fuck if we didn’t show up.”

Mickey nodded in agreement then turned to smirk at Ian. “You know you have to keep your hands to yourself right? Don’t get any ideas.”

Ian smiled despite his growing disappointment. “Right.” He walked past Mickey and opened their room door gesturing Mickey to lead the way. “Let’s go do this.”       

 

 

* * *

 

 

The party was held in the penthouse, the gathering place to open group date cards. They were supposed to hang out there when filming wasn’t going on, but most of the time the men tried their best to go venture off and do their own activities around the resort as much as they could. It seemed like the crew always had tabs of them wherever they went. Most of the guys were well on their way to intoxication by the time Mickey and Ian made their way up to the suite, Nick engulfing them both in a giant hug. Just by the unruly sight of him Mickey knew he was probably the worst off out of the bunch.

“You guys made it!” Nick yelled, handing Mickey and Ian each their own shot glass filled with clear liquid. “Drink up bitches, we’re having fun tonight!”

Mickey shot a glare at Ian who looked adorably hopeless as he shrugged before throwing his head back to take the shot. Mickey swallowed as he watched the redhead’s adam’s apple move up and down. His lips twitched as he remembered the way Ian’s neck tasted with its smooth saltiness and how good it felt against his hungry tongue. It shocked him that he hadn’t left a mark by the way he had allowed himself to lose control last night but he couldn’t say the same for Ian. The redhead had left two perfect bruises on his right hip last night and instead of worrying about anyone potentially seeing them, Mickey allowed himself to admire them that morning before he hopped in the shower. He was going to give himself at least that before he had to worry about anything else.

Mickey couldn’t remember having ever felt the way he did when he and Ian kissed last night. Granted he could count the number guys he had kissed on one hand but none of them made every doubt he had seamlessly melt away like Ian had. He couldn’t believe how fucking giddy he felt. The old Mickey would have never allowed himself to enjoy the tingly, happy feeling he had rush through his veins. The old Mickey would have ripped off the wings of the fucking moths that were now rampaging through his stomach, making sure they would never be able to flutter again. The new Mickey, however, was beginning to accept the little fuckers… not that he would ever tell anyone that.

If he thought he was confused before he was really confused now. He came onto this show unwillingly, his bitchy ass sister swearing to him that it would help out his photography business tremendously. He wasn’t going to deny that Drew was attractive and for some strange reason he found Mickey endearing (or whatever the fuck he had said to him that one time),he just didn’t get a lot of time with Drew to really get to know him. Yeah it was only week three and being this early in the game he knew his time with Drew was extremely limited and his stay wasn’t promised.

Then there was Ian, (who looked hot as hell tonight with his white t-shirt and torn up jeans) the guy he could no longer keep himself away from.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He hadn’t known Drew long enough to actually form any real feelings for him. It was still early in filming and since there were still fourteen men left, they were doing two group dates and two single dates a week. He had already had his turn with his first single date and Drew and the producers were choosing other prospects for the one on one dates... for now.

He tried his best to enjoy himself through the course of the evening but after doing nothing but sipping on his beer and watching Ian out of the corner of his eye he was quickly becoming bored. Shit like this was never his thing and he wondered what it would be like if he and Ian had just stayed in their room just the two of them.

“Fuck,” He muttered to himself as he looked at the label of the fancy ass beer he was drinking wondering what the hell was in this stuff that was already making him light headed or maybe it was the perfect view of Ian’s tight shirt that showed his sculpted back muscles perfectly.

Fuck he was so screwed.

“Anyone up for playing a little game?” Nick asked, breaking Mickey out of his thoughts. He walked into the kitchen and started taking out glasses, turning back to the group of men with a mischievous grin on his face. “Maybe a little ‘Never Have I Ever?”

“What are you, twelve?” Mickey snorted. “Who the fuck plays that game anymore?”

“It sounds fun. Much better sitting around and kicking y’all’s ass in poker again.” Grant said with a shrug.

Mickey rolled his eyes and caught sight of Ian looking back at him apologetically.

Ian shot him a guilty look as he shrugged, “It sounds like fun Mickey. And Grant is right if I play one more game of freaking poker or watch another one Jerry’s musicals I may scream.”

“What’s wrong with my musicals?” Jerry protested, “Kinky Boots is a classic.”

“We really don’t need to hear about your foot fetish, Jer,” Kyle sighed, grabbing a bottle of Tito’s from the fridge, winking at Nick as he poured his cup. “I say let’s play the damn game!”

Mickey groaned and gave Ian one last pleading look to get out of there. The redhead just smiled his usual blinding grin and fuck if Mickey wasn’t a sucker already for this guy.

They all sat in a circle with their respective drinks in their hands, the group making Nick go first since the game was his idea.

“Okay okay fine,” Nick said, pondering his response. “Never have I stolen something.”

_Shit_ , Mickey thought to himself as he took a swig, looking over at Ian as he took a drink out of his own cup, sharing a knowing look. One didn’t grow up where they had without getting desperate.

Kyle laughed, “Okay that’s lame, my turn; never have I ever had sex with a women!”

Michael K snorted as he took his drink, “I call bullshit on that!”

Kyle raised his hands defensively, “Hey, gold star gay right here! Ian and Jer-Man know what’s up!” Kyle reached forward and gave Ian a high five then looked back at Michael K. “So how many girls have you been with?”

“I was with the same girl all through high school. , We were engaged…until me and her brother were caught in bed together a week before the wedding.”

“Shit,” Kyle gasped.

“Yeah,” Michael said with a laugh, reaching for the bottle to top himself off. “Both of our parents were Southern Baptist so they thought they could you know, ‘pray the gay away' I ended up just leaving and started my modeling career.”

The men hummed in interest, Ian turning to give Mickey an inquiring look as he nursed his drink. “So how many Mickey?”

“Fuck if I know,” Mickey lied. He could count at least five in his head but he wasn’t going to admit the things he had had to do to stay hidden in the closet and please his Dad. “Maybe three?”

“That’s disgusting, how could you?” Jerry asked, his usual grossed out expression on his face. “I mean with the folds… and the slime…”

“And they’re too soft,” Kyle added with a cringe. “Way too fucking soft.”

“Had to do it to keep my old man away,” Mickey said quietly, not looking into Ian’s inquisitive eyes. The rest of the group nodded solemnly; giving him an odd sense of comfort that maybe he wasn’t the only one who had to hide for as long as he did.

“MK!” Kyle announced, turning to the dark haired, burly man. “You’re up.”

Michael K considered for a moment, “Um, never have I ever slept with a married man?”

Everyone glanced at each other accusingly until a few seconds went by and Ian let out an aggravated sigh and took a drink.

“Holy shit Ian.”

“Wow that shit really happens?”

“Details man!”

Mickey remained silent, watching Ian’s pained expression as he told the story about the older men he had seen when he was younger, not even fucking eighteen yet and these gross old fucks were fucking married and putting his hands all over him like some piece of meat.

Mickey’s blood began to boil. How anyone would take advantage of someone like Ian or fucking anyone, but especially Ian, was beyond him. Ian deserved someone that actually gave a flying fuck about him and didn’t view him as a trophy that would eventually just end up in a dusty storage bin one day.

“Mickey?” Someone asked.

Mickey broke out of his murderous thoughts knowing there was nothing he could do about it now. “Uh, never have I ever…” He paused, straining to think of all the things he hadn’t done and finally came up with one “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Only Ian and Kyle took sips.

“Really?” Mickey marveled, cocking an eyebrow at Ian who just smiled bashfully.

Ian shrugged. “Hey what happens in basic stays in basic.” He gave him a quick wink that made Mickey’s stomach go for a loop.

“And you Kyle?” Nick inquired.

“Been in a threesome and a foursome, boasted Kyle, grinning from ear to ear. “Plain vanilla sex hardly does it for me anymore, the guy needs to be kinky or I am out.”

“Cheers to that,” shouted Grant. “Never have I ever had sex in public.”

Dustin raised his eyebrows as did Ian, “Define public?”

“Like not in a bathroom stall or anything,” explained the clean cut blonde. “I’m talking like in the booth in a bar or back alley.”

“Fuck,” Kyle scoffed swinging his head back for a drink. “Who hasn’t?”

“I haven’t,” Jerry huffed, disgusted.

All of the men rolled their eyes at the lanky man, “Yeah we know.”

“Where was the weirdest place y’all had sex?” Nick asked addressing the circle. “Mine has to be the zoo.”

“The fucking zoo?” Dustin exclaimed. “Gross.”

“The zoo makes a lot of sense for you Nick,” sniggered Ian, flashing his goofy grin at Mickey causing his lips to instantly curl up as well.

Nick picked a melting ice cube off the floor and chucked it at Ian, who gracefully dodged it. “Go fuck yourself, you can’t tell me your weird place was any stranger than mine.”

Ian raised his shoulders, his eyes considering. “Does on the L in Chicago count as weird?”

Mickey laughed into his cup. “You fucked someone where a homeless guy probably pissed himself? Jesus.”

“That’s repulsive.” Jerry quipped.

“I did it in a park once,” Michael K announced.

“There are children at parks!” gasped Jerry.

“It was a night dingbat,” retorted Michael, rolling his eyes.

“Where was yours Mickey?” Ian asked.

Mickey shrugged; he couldn’t exactly have public sex just anywhere, especially back in Chicago. “Usually just alley ways but according to surfer boy that doesn’t count. I guess I did have a guy blow me at a club once. Didn’t quite make it to the bathroom, if you know what’d I mean.”

He heard Ian cough out a discreet “humph” and turned, no longer facing Mickey. By the zoned out look in his green eyes it seemed like Ian no longer wanted to hear anymore about Mickey’s past sexual escapades. He didn’t like it per say, but Mickey couldn’t help but feel his heart swell watching Ian sulk in jealously.

They went around the circle two more times in, each question more ridiculous than the next. Mickey wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink at that point but the warm feeling flowing through him was making him more relaxed by the minute. Both he and Ian were on the floor, their backs against the couch and their shoulders just touching. Mickey swiped a quick glance at Ian whose eyes were already on him with an expression that Mickey couldn’t quite read but made his heart race none the less.

“Never have I ever been arrested!” shouted Nick who was already on his third cup.

“Damnit!” Mickey yelled, louder than he intended. He took a long swig and smiled devilishly at everyone but that was fleeting when he saw both Ian and Jerry take a swig.

“Holy shit Red? Germaphobe?”

“Explanation!” Exclaimed Nick, almost spilling his own cup. “Now!”

“Yeah boy scout,” Mickey said, prodding Ian’s leg with his foot. “What could you have possibly done?”

“Stole a car with my brother once. Was in the station for about ten hours before they decided to let us go.”

“Oh wow ten hours, “Mickey said mockingly. ”Phew you were one step away from hard time!”

Ian elbowed him playfully, “Shut the fuck up.”

The attention moved back to Jerry, whose face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Okay Germy,” Mickey continued, pointing at Jerry with his cup. “Tell us how you killed someone with some Lemon Pledge.”

Jerry rolled his eyes dramatically. “I was sitting next to this lady on a plane, she was sick and she just kept coughing. It was atrocious! And, well, just as I was about to offer her a tissue she sneezed on me!”

The men all stared at the lanky weirdo waiting for the punch line.

“And apparently,” explained Jerry, the remnants of his drink sloshing onto the floor, “it is not in good taste to complain and demand a refund for you flight.”

“You smacked the chick didn’t you?” Grant asked, dead panned.

“She said I smacked her but it was just reflex!” yelled Jerry, getting agitated. “I mean what kind of vile, repulsive-“

“Okay someone put Jer-man to bed,” laughed Michael K, pulling himself off his chair and grabbing the blubbering man. “You need to sleep this off dude.”

Mickey watched in awe as Michael K pushed Jerry into one of the penthouse’s bedrooms. Around him the rest of the gang seemed worse for wear, Nick was all but drooling into his cup, all of them in their own world no one willing to continue the game.

“Want to get out of here?” Ian whispered, his green eyes twinkling. They didn’t quite match his boyish grin but it didn’t stop Mickey from feeling the rise of temperature in the room. He knew he should probably stay and let Ian go first, maybe wait until he fell asleep so he can be sure nothing else happened, but Senor Tito seemed to be making his decisions tonight.

“Yeah,” Mickey said, picking himself up, stumbling only slightly. He tilted his head towards the penthouse elevator, “Let’s go Red.”

 

* * *

 

 

They made their way down to their room, both boys feeling light and careless. Mickey all but stumbled out of the elevator.

“Fuck, what did they give us?” Mickey asked as a laughing Ian caught his arm before he could trip over the threshold.

“That was some strong ass shit whatever it was.”

“You wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t done so much shit in your life,” Mickey huffed giving Ian a playful shove.

Ian’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Oh look who’s talking, you did way worse shit than I ever did!”

Mickey shook his head which then he instantly regretted because the hallway they were walking through started to look slanted. “Please! At least I’ve never gargled old man balls.”

“I can gargle yours again. Would that make you feel better?”

Mickey’s heart stilled. He’d honestly wanted nothing more than for that exact thing to happen but that one time had to be it. As much as he wanted to feel Ian’s mouth around his cock one more time, as much as he craved to have Ian’s lips on his… He couldn’t, they couldn’t. Because he knew if it were to happen again, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Ian seemed to sense Mickey’s uneasiness. “Sorry I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Are you?” questioned Mickey. Despite what he said he couldn’t help but flirt with the gorgeous ginger, it was becoming too automatic.

Ian smirked as he fumbled around for their key card. “Not really but I just wanted to leave the option out there.”

When they walked into the room Ian instantly went towards the mini bar and grabbed two glasses. He picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels and turned back to Mickey with a boyish grin. “Should we continue?”

Mickey shook his head. This was exactly what he didn’t want to do but Ian was standing there looking… well looking like Ian and Mickey was fucking helpless as ever.

“We shouldn’t but fuck it, let’s do it. Just stay on your own bed!” Mickey warned as he plucked a glass off of the counter.

Ian’s lips formed a pout. “You’re no fun.”

“I mean it Red.” Mickey pointed to Ian’s bed as he backed up into his and took a seat on the soft unmade blankets. “Stay in your assigned seat.”

“Fine,” Ian huffed, rolling his eyes as he filled both their glasses with the amber liquid. He took his place on his bed, fluffing up the pillows and leaned back against the headboard.

“You go first Firecrotch.”

Ian chuckled at Mickey's crude nickname for him, twirling the glass in his hand, Mickey watching him as he thought of a question.

“Never have I ever… ridden an elephant.”

“The fuck Ian?” Mickey laughed, prodding the redhead’s leg with his foot. “Who the fuck has actually ridden an elephant before?”

“I don’t know,” Ian chuckled, his drink splashing around in his hand. “I think you can at the zoo and like…I think people in India do.”

“Pretty sure only rich fucks do that.”

“Probably,” agreed Ian. He looked back over towards Mickey, “Your turn.”

“Oh um,” he shifted in his bed to sit up straighter. “I uh never have been to summer camp.”

Ian shook his head, “Me neither but my brother has. Frank, my um… Dad, told him he had cancer.”

Mickey barked out a laugh, “What? Are you serious?”

Ian nodded, “Yup, shaved his head and everything. I’m pretty sure he still believes he really had it.”

Mickey shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“What about you, have you ever been?”

“Nope, I mean unless you count the time I had to sleep outside of a truck stop because my Dad forgot to come get me.” He knew it was the alcohol talking at this point and he didn’t understand the sadness that was Ian’s eyes. That shit was in the past… things are better now. It seemed like Ian just knew how to make things better.

“Hey,” Mickey said, tilting his head towards Ian, “I’m fine now and besides it was the only for one night, my brother Jaime came and got me.”

“Your Dad sounds like a real piece of shit.”

Mickey just shrugged; he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do, “Most parents on the Southside are pieces of shit.”

Ian lifted his glass towards Mickey. “I'd cheers to that but you are too far away.”

“Not doing it Red,” Reiterated Mickey, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t think you can control yourself?” Ian asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“I wasn’t the one that made the first move last time Mickey.”

Mickey shot out of the bed, “Oh Fuck you Red!” He took a swig of his drink and sat on the edge of Ian's bed while shooting him a dirty look. “Happy now?”

Ian reached over and clinked his glass with Mickey’s. “Now I am.”

“You just keep your hands to yourself,” Mickey warned despite wanting to reach out and touch the other man. The glow of the lamp on the night stand brought out the freckles on Ian's toned arm. His eyes had a soft, endearing look in them as he continued to look at Mickey. The fluttering sensation had returned deep in his stomach. He couldn’t blame the booze; it was simply just the automatic sensation whenever he was near Ian.

After a moment of self analyzing and telling himself to give up on ever trying to settle down the annoying insects he finally spoke, his tone soft. “Your turn.”

Ian sipped at his drink before stating, “Never have I ever bottomed.”

Mickey choked, his impish grin returning. “Wanna know if I give or take huh?”

Ian shot him a pointed look. “You didn’t answer the question Mickey.”

Mickey grinned, “Can I pass? I like keeping you guessing.”

He shouldn’t have said that. It had to be the alcohol talking but he couldn’t help himself seeing the tortured look on Red's face was too good.

“No passing.”

Mickey sighed, allowing Ian to win, he took a swig of his drink and reached for the bottle to add some more. He looked over at Ian whose pleased expression told Mickey that it was exactly what the ginger idiot wanted to hear.

“You've never bottom before Red?”

Ian shook his head. “Nope, gold star gay and gold star top right here. Have you ever topped?”

Mickey shrugged. “Only when I was in juvie, couldn’t become anyone’s bitch you know?”

Ian just nodded, understanding. “Go ahead ask me a question.”

Mickey, pondered for a second before asking, something was eating at him. Ever since Ian had admitted that he slept with older, married men there was something else he wanted to ask.

“What is the craziest thing you’ve done for money?”

Ian stilled next to him, his face pained and Mickey instantly regretted asking. It wasn’t any of his business, shit he had done crazy things for money too. Again living where they lived it was expected.

“I-“began Ian, rubbing his hand down his face. “I’ve done some things I’m not really proud of Mick.” He leaned back into his pillow and turned his head to face Mickey, his eyes searching the brunettes face. Mickey hoped his expression told the younger man that he wouldn’t judge, that he didn’t care.

“I use to work at the clubs in Boystown. Ya know as a dancer?” Ian paused, taking a shallow breath as something hot twisted inside of Mickey. “Sometimes I’d give guys blowjobs … and some other stuff… for the extra cash”

 

Mickey placed his hand on Ian’s knee, the uneasy twisting inside of him continued to burn. He hated to see Ian so troubled. He was usually so happy go fuckinglucky it was unusual to see this side to him. The tight feeling in his chest turned sickening as he thought about all the sick fucks that had gotten their hands on Ian in the past. He wanted to punch every single one of them.

“Hey. It’s okay; we don’t got to talk about this.”

Ian sighed deeply. He met Mickey’s eyes and once again Mickey was at a loss for words. _Fuck this guy was beautiful._

“Its fine,” Ian said, giving Mickey a small smile. “Like I said, I wasn’t proud of the things I did back then. I uh, you see I originally had tried to get into West Point.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that like some type of serious shit military school or something?”

“Yeah I wanted to be an officer. I had all the physical qualities and I studied my ass off for the second placement exam and I didn’t fucking pass. Also didn’t do so well on my SAT or my ACT. “

Mickey gently squeezed Ian’s knee as he watched the other man’s eyes turn glassy. “I wanted it so fucking bad and when I didn’t get in I fucking gave up. I had worked so hard for nothing so I kind of didn’t think I was even worth going to basic training, felt like I would of just been settling. So I got a job as a dancer at one of those clubs in Boystown, and I did so much shit… I was so fucking…”

“Lost?” Mickey asked. He got it, he’d been there before.

Ian nodded graciously. “Yeah and I just… I thought I was only good for my body, not fucking smart enough to get into the school I always wanted so I just used the only thing I had going for me.”

“Ian that is not the only thing you have going for you. Fuck man, yeah you’re hot but… but shit you’re more than that. So much more, and you still joined the army. That was your real dream right?”

“I just wanted to be someone you know?” Ian said, his shoulders dropping. “Something other than the middle child of a poor family from the Southside.”

A lock of hair fell in front of Ian’s face which didn’t help the kicked puppy dog expression . Mickey scooted forward and gingerly wiped the hair out of Ian’s face and looked in straight into his sad eyes.

“Hey you did get out of the Southside and I think you’re doing a pretty fucking good job at doing what you are doing. Fuck man.” Mickey knew he shouldn’t be saying this but the guy needed to hear what he had to say. Clearly no one had ever told Red this in his life and it was about time someone did. “You’re pretty great from what I can tell.”

Ian tilted his head, “You think so?”

“Know so,” Mickey said softly, he placed his glass down on the floor and looked back at the red head just lying there waiting for Mickey to say something or do something. Mickey threw caution to the wind and leaned forward placing his hands on Ian chest and pressed his lips softly against Ian’s lips. Ever since the redhead had told the story from earlier about sleeping with older man Mickey had wanted to kiss the broken expression off of him. He had wished he met the man in front of him sooner so he could have protected him from the assholes that broke him.

Ian smiled his cocky smile and Mickey knew he had broken the guy of his bereavement.

“What happened to keeping our hands to ourselves?”

Mickey swiped his thumb over his bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean forward again. He plopped back down and fluffed up the extra pillow Ian had so they were now sitting dangerously close together, their shoulders and legs barely touching.

“Ask me another question,” Coaxed Mickey, hoping the redhead would stop sulking.

Ian stared up at the ceiling then gazed back at Mickey; a playful glint was in his eyes that only made Mickey nervous.

“Do you use any toys on yourself?”

Mickey almost choked. “What? Like sex toys? Like dildos?”

“Yeah dummy,” Ian grinned, leaning in close enough to where Mickey could count the freckles on his nose, “Sex toys.”

Mickey shrugged; he couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips, the Jack Daniels causing him to be daring again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ian’s eyebrows reached his hairline. “Holy shit. Tell me. Please.”

Mickey smiled wickedly. “Pass me your drink asshole.”

Mickey took a drink from Ian’s glass, considering his answer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ian anxiously waiting.

“Oh come on, tell me!” Ian begged, leaning even closer, any closer he would be straddling Mickey. He pouted his lower lip and spoke in a low, persuasive voice, “Please?”

Mickey chewed on his lower lip as he held Ian’s gaze, his eyes were glazed with lust as he looked back at Mickey waiting, wanting. It reminded Mickey so much of the look Ian gave him before he dropped to his knees and gave Mickey the blow job of his life.

 

Mickey felt his dick twitch. Fuck this was dangerous, he knew what he was doing but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. He turned his body, completely facing the redhead, reaching out his hand and tickling his fingertips down Ian’s toned arm. Mickey watched as the redhead shivered beneath his touch. It was enough for him to fight up the courage to admit one of his favorite things to do.

“I like… I like using anal beads,” he whispered, his voice low and deep. He licked his lower lip slowly before adding, “I put them in my ass one by one, then I pull them out real slow.”

“Shit,” breathed Ian, “damn Mickey.”

Mickey’s lips curled into a satisfied smile and placed another kiss on Ian’s lips. He couldn’t control himself anymore so he slid on top of Ian. He bent back down and began placing quick kisses along Ian’s chiseled jaw line, all the way down to the crook of his neck finishing it off with a playful nip. He could feel his dick began to harden as the younger man began to pant beneath him.

“Never had anyone use them on me before though,” His index finger leisurely tracing Ian’s collar bone, a prickle of electric heat swarmed through his fingertip and spread all through his upper body, filling him with the most wonderful warmth, thrumming with thirst as he looked down at the redhead, his eyes boring into him with lust.

Ian arched his hips up slightly, their groins rubbing against each other, the friction of their jeans becoming increasingly uncomfortable for the both of them.

“Would you let me use them on you?” Ian asked, his voice rough.

His heart was hammering against his chest. He should stop, fuck he really should fucking stop but his body was longing for more, begging for the need to touch and thrill the man below him.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He lowered himself back down, his tongue swiping Ian’s lower lip before entering his waiting mouth.

And they remained there, feeling each other, tasting each other, Ian’s hands carding roughly through Mickey’s hair until the redhead finally allowed him to rise up again for air.

“We’re…” Ian stuttered, his voice breathless. “I thought we were trying to, fuck!” The redhead seemed to not be able to string together a complete sentence, Mickey grinding slowly against his cock, the rough material of their jeans becoming too much.

Mickey huffed out a laugh, “We’re doing a real shitty job of keeping our hands to ourselves aren’t we?”

Ian nodded, agreeing with Mickey but not saying anything, his eyes boring into Mickey’s, reflecting the same desire and neediness that Mickey was sure reflecting in his own.

Finally Ian spoke. He reached up to pull Mickey down, the brunette coming willingly. “I can’t stop thinking about yesterday Mick,” Ian whispered their foreheads touching. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Mickey sighed deeply; his fears of fucking up his chances with Drew were almost completely overshadowed by his desire for Ian. Maybe he could have this, maybe something good could come out of this. “Yeah I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

Ian’s lips found Mickey’s as they kissed slowly,, soaking each other’s confessions up until the kisses became heated and messy, their bodies grinding together in sync. Mickey had had enough, he needed the ginger out of this clothes and he out of his own. He needed to feel the pale smooth skin he had been craving for so long.

“Fucking want you Mickey,” Ian moaned as Mickey made his way down his throat with his mouth.

Mickey slid his hands underneath Ian’s shirt, pressing his thumbs into Ian’s hipbones, rising his hands up through the cotton material and swiftly stripping it off of the redhead, exposing his taut muscles and making Mickey’s mouth water.

“God damn Red,” breathed Mickey, bending back down to swipe his tongue along Ian’s toned abs. He felt Ian shudder beneath him, giving him the pleasure and satisfaction he was looking for. He arched back and took his own shirt off returning to Ian’s mouth now bare chest to bare chest.

“Wanna suck that cock,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s ear. The taller man nodded frantically as Mickey began to undo the redhead’s belt pulling down on his jeans and boxers, exposing the most delicious cock Mickey had ever seen.

Mickey wasted no time, alternating between swirling and flicking the tip with his tongue, not breaking contact with Ian as he twitched and flexed on the bed. He paused for only a second but long enough for Ian to let out a needy whine. He took what he could of Ian’s cock into his mouth, which from quite a bit of experience was a lot even though he had never come across a dick quite like this one. He lapped up and down the shaft taking in Ian’s warm delicious skin. Mickey reached up with one hand and ran it down Ian’s stomach feeling him pant faster as he sucked harder.

“M-Mickey if you keep doing that I’m-I’m gonna…”

Mickey halted and crawled back up to Ian planting kisses and small quick bites on his body all the way up until he met Ian’s jaw line again.

“I want you to fuck me Red,” Mickey growled as he sucked in Ian’s earlobe, “fuck me now.”

“We, uh I don’t have uh…” Ian gasped as Mickey bit down harder, “I don’t have a condom Mick. They were on the black list given by the show.”

Mickey paused, lifting his head a little, “Shit, I don’t either. There was a fucking black list for what we could bring? That’s why though fuckers took my condoms when they checked my luggage?”

“You really should have read some of the stuff they sent to you before you got here,” Ian replied with a laugh.

“What the fuck ever,” Mickey replied, his lips continuing to explore Ian’s skin. “So what happens if people wanna fuck?”

“The show provides them for fantasy suite week which is not for a few more weeks. You got tested though right?” Ian asked, skimming his hand along Mickey’s lower back, sending chills up and down his spine. “We had to be tested in order to get on the show.”

“Right,” sighed Mickey, getting lost in Ian’s soft touches until he felt a harsh whack on his ass. “So we’re good here?” he asked, pushing his ass into Ian’s hand so he could give it a firm squeeze.

“Fucking fantastic,” breathed Ian. Mickey wasn’t sure if Ian was talking about his ass or that they could properly fuck each other now knowing they were both clean.

He leaned back up so Ian could undo his zipper and they maneuvered around so he could pull his jeans down, exposing his pulsing red cock. Giving himself a few tugs, he grinned at the aroused ginger, who had reached down to his own cock and gave it one good rub. He reached over to the bed side table and slid the drawer open, reaching in and pulling out a bottle of lube.

Mickey arched his eyebrow, “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“They can’t possibly think any man could go weeks without wanking off,” Ian explained, squirting a liberal amount of lube onto his hand and returned to rubbing his own cock, smiling teasingly at Mickey.

Mickey swatted Ian’s hand away and gave a long wet swipe up his scrotum, smirking as he received a needy whimper from the man below him.

“Fuck Mick,” Ian surged forward, grabbing onto Mickey’s hips and flipping him onto his back. His eye’s traveled up and down Mickey’s naked, panting form, his gaze burning into Mickey’s skin, his body and soul wrecked by flames of desire.

Mickey felt Ian’s large hands brace onto the back of his thighs pulling him to the edge to the bed in front of where the sexy, chiseled Adonis stood. Mickey wrapped his legs around Ian’s torso as Ian began to stroke Mickey’s dick. The sensation sending fiery chills through him and he knew then he wasn’t going to last long by the way his lower stomach clenched as Ian stroked him.

“Not gonna last long.” Mickey stuttered, arching his hips up towards Ian, “Get in me.”

“Patience,” Ian warned as he put a liberal amount of lube onto his three fingers and slowly pressed them one by one into Mickey’s heat. His body began to shake as Ian bent his fingers ever so slightly, moving them forward and backward, spreading him wide open and sending his nerves into overdrive.

“Fuuckkk,” Mickey groaned, pressing into Ian’s fingers as the younger man moved in and out slowly teasing the brunette. “Damn it,” he hissed, grabbing at Ian’s chest hair readily. “Get it in me.”

Ian smiled devilishly above him and released his fingers, moving them to his lube slicked cock and giving it a few strokes, staring down at Mickey with a teasing twinkle. Mickey didn’t know if he wanted to punch the guy for his ridiculous need of foreplay when he could see Mickey was about to lose his damn mind or just grab his own dick and get the job done himself.

But he didn’t need too, because as soon as Ian’s cock entered him all those thoughts dissolved and every single bit of foreplay and teasing Ian had done was one hundred percent worth it. Once he was buried to the hilt, Ian pulled back slowly, leaving just the tip in before pressing hard into Mickey’s body, rotating his hips as he moved, brushing Mickey’s prostate with one electrifying touch after the other. “Damn, Mickey, you’re so fucking tight, holy fuck,” Ian purred between each hard, pulsating thrust.

Mickey’s lower stomach pulled, each brush of his prostate from Ian’s cock was one blissful wave of shock after the other.

“Please Ian,” Mickey whined, not caring how desperate sounded. “Need, fuck need this… need you. Make me come.”

Ian leaned forward taking Mickey’s thigh with him as he pushed it against Mickey’s chest, “Need you too Mickey, been wanting this.” He shoved harder and another yelp escaped Mickey’s throat, “Been thinking about this for weeks now, ever since I first saw you.”

Mickey bit his lower lip, fighting the sensation creeping up his body, not ready for this to end, wanting it to last forever. Hot fire filling him as he took in Ian’s words. Fuck he couldn’t lie, this was exactly what he had wanted from the first night he saw him. Ian in his navy blue suit, Ian’s bashful smile, Ian’s rock hard body in the swimming pool.

Ian. Ian. Ian. Everything was Ian.

“You like that Mickey?” Ian exhaled, swiping the swollen tip of Mickey’s cock with his thumb, precome dripping out as their passion mounted. Mickey’s muscles twitched and spasm at the touch, his cheek pressing against the sheets as he moaned, his face contorting in pleasure. It was all too much but he couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah keep doing that,” Mickey panted, arching his hips up as he fucked Ian’s hand. “Keep going Red.”

Ian groaned brokenly, “Love when you call me that.” He pushed in again snapping his hips into Mickey, the warm pool inside Mickey’s belly reaching its breaking point until he could no longer hold it back.

“Fu, fu, fuck,” Mickey cried out, letting his seed spill into Ian’s hand, his muscles dissolving into the pleasurable waves quaking throughout him. He felt strong arms pull him up against a firm chest and wrap themselves around him. Ian continued to pulse inside him as Mickey muttered profanities into the younger man’s shoulder, biting down on the sweat laden skin. With one final thrust Ian grunted, clinging onto Mickey as Mickey felt Ian’s cock rocket inside him, Ian’s sputtering breaths hot against his ear.

They held onto each other, nails digging into each other’s skin as neither wanted to let go, their bodies molding together. After a moment, Mickey leaned back onto the bed, his eyes clenched shut, his breath hitching as Ian pulled out of him. He felt Ian crash beside him, both of them lying on their backs, panting and relishing in post orgasm bliss.

“That was,” Ian began.

“Yup,” Mickey finished, letting out a long winded breath. He felt Ian’s arm wrap around him nudging him to turn over and face him.

“Mick…” Ian whispered, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Don’t,” Mickey hissed, cupping Ian’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “I don’t fucking regret that.”

Ian smiled so wide Mickey was worried his face might tear in the middle. “I don’t either.”

Mickey shifted as he felt his own jizz harden onto his stomach. “I got to go fucking clean this shit up, made a mess.” He rolled off the mattress grabbing his boxers as he went.

He meant what he said; he didn’t regret what just happened and as he cleaned himself up and looked into the mirror, taking in his lust swollen lips and flushed body he decided that he was allowed to feel this good. And it was all thanks to Ian. The rest could be figured out.

He walked back into the bedroom where Ian was now under the covers, watching Mickey as he looked from his own bed to Ian wondering what the hell he should do next. Ian propped himself by his elbow, “Don’t think for a second that you’re sleeping in that bed.”

Mickey laughed, wondering how the hell the gangly ginger could somehow read his mind. “Think it’s a good idea?”

Ian just rolled his eyes and lifted the covers, “Just come here, just for the night, we’ll deal with all the other bullshit tomorrow.”

Yup. He may just be a mind reader.

Mickey slid into the bed next to Ian, pressing his back into him as Ian wrapped his arms around him.

“That was amazing,” Ian muttered into Mickey’s skin, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“Night Red,” Mickey whispered, reaching over to give the back of Ian’s hand a kiss.

He lay there in Ian’s arms, allowing the soft snores coming from the crimson giant to lull him to sleep; allowing his doubts and fears to ease just for the night.

 

* * *

 

 

 The next morning came too quickly, both Ian and Mickey woke up with pounding headaches and rushed to get ready for the penthouse meeting, not leaving enough time for them to discuss what had happened last night and what they were going to do about it.

They strolled into the penthouse, Mickey’s eyes darting around the room out of habit, wondering if anyone would be able to tell that Ian had been balls deep in him the previous night, but by the droopy tired looks on most of the guys faces it seemed like none of them were paying the two of them any attention. They waited around the living area until the crew set up; each of the men got a brief run through to make sure their mics were on.

When it was finally show time, the bleach blonde guy from California (fuck if Mickey could keep track of all these dudes names, all the contestants were beginning to look the same),started to fiddle with the date card, showing it at different angles while trying way too hard to please the film crew with his “dashing” good looks.

“Fuck just give it to me,” Mickey snapped, plucking the envelope from surfer boy's hands to tear the envelope open and read it out loud quickly. Too quickly for the crew apparently.

“Mickey, please read the card again. A little slower and with more gusto.”

Mickey sighed and sat up straighter giving Ian one last look he read the card again out loud.

_“_ Mickey, Kyle, Dustin, Jerry, Jack, and Ian - whose ready to knock my socks off? -Drew”

_Jesus Christ could this show get any cheesier._ Mickey thought. Then the words hit him and his heart stilled.

Peering over the envelope he looked over at the equally confused Ian. He had already gone on a group date this week... he shouldn’t have been picked for the second group date. It left someone out and usually that meant that someone was going home.

“Um I think there’s been a mistake,” Ian said, directing his attention to Olivia who looked beyond annoyed.

“Ian,” She said, her icy tone breaking through sending a shiver down Mickey’s spine. It reminded him way too much of that Kim bitch.

“We are going to have Mickey read that again but this time don’t say anything, just look shocked okay?”

“The hell?” Kyle shouted as the camera men instantly turned their cameras toward him. “Why the hell does he get to go on a second group date?”

Mickey felt a twinge of anger from the way Kyle was glaring at Ian. He was about to say something before Olivia interrupted.

“Kyle that was great!” She cheered, clapping at Kyle as she turned to her assistant. “Let’s keep that but redo Ian's expression.” She turned back towards Ian, “Okay Ian remember we are going for shock here but also kind of smug. Can you do that for me please?”

Ian's mouth was agape; his eyes darted towards Mickey who raised his eyebrows back at him, _just play the game Ian_. As much as it angered Mickey that they were targeting Ian like this just for some fucking drama, he couldn’t let Ian ruin the façade just yet.

Ian seemed to have gotten the message and nodded. Mickey reread the stupid card a third time, trying his best to look annoyed at the fact that Ian’s name was on the card as well.

There were some other reactions from the group, most of them annoyed and pissed off but others like Theo stared at both Mickey and Ian neutrally. Not like Mickey cared, the only reaction he cared about was the kicked puppy dog expression Ian had on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

 Back in the hotel room Ian knew Mickey was trying his best to make light of the situation but it wasn’t working. This was the last thing Ian wanted. Ian splashed his face with water from the faucet. “Yeah,” he scoffed reaching for the towel to wipe his face. “Now all eyes are on me because the producers fucked up, I bet you anything Kyle will start shit today.”

He felt Mickey’s hands twist him around as he turned to face him, the brunette’s eyes were soft but the protective tone of his voice was enough to send a shiver down Ian’s spine.

“And if he does then I’ll punch him and tell him to shut the fuck up.”

Ian shook his head grabbing Mickey’s shoulders. “Yeah that’s something you can’t do.”

Mickey quirked an eyebrow as his lips curled into a playful grin. “Which one can’t I do? Punch him or tell him to shut the fuck up?”

“I prefer if you did neither,” Ian laughed. He pulled Mickey closer, half expecting him to pull away a thrill shooting through his body when he didn’t. “I can take care of myself.”

Mickey nodded slowly. Ian could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. He felt Mickey pull him closer as he allowed their foreheads to touch; they stood there for a moment taking each other in, neither man willing to let go of the warmth of the other.

“So, “Mickey breathed breaking the silence. “What exactly are we doing here Red?”

Ian chewed on his bottom lip not wanting to lie to the brunette. “I have no fucking idea,” he sighed nuzzling into the crook of Mickey’s neck. It was rapidly becoming his favorite spot, the other man’s scent calming him. “All I know right now is that I want you.”

“But that could change.”

His shot his head back up at the brunette’s statement. Mickey wasn’t looking at him anymore, his eyes darting around as he tried to avoid the redhead’s eyes.

“What the hell does that mean?” Ian asked as he tried to maneuver the shorter man to look at him but Mickey wasn’t budging. He watched as Mickey seemed to be searching for the right words, only to let out a frustrated groan a few seconds later.

“I don’t… man, I shouldn’t have said that, “Mickey replied as he swiped his free hand down his face. “This shit is just…”

“A hot mess?”

Mickey smiled, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “You can say that.”

Ian nodded and pulled Mickey back closer, their chests touching. His heart warmed as Mickey dipped his head into Ian’s collarbone letting out what seemed to be a sigh of content as Ian raked his raven locks with his fingers.

“I think…” Ian paused, hoping these were the right words to say, “I think we just gotta take it one day at a time, try not to let it all get to us.”

Ian’s chest rumbled as Mickey laughed against it. “Take it one day at a time huh?” His blue eyes peered up at Ian. “Did you take that off of some middle age soccer mom’s wall art or something?”

“Probably,” Ian shrugged, pulling Mickey even closer if possible. “But I really don’t know what else to say or do here.”

Mickey took his finger and trailed it across Ian’s collar bone sending a shiver down Ian’s spine. “Yeah neither do I,” Mickey said, lowering his head back down to place a soft kiss onto Ian’s flesh. “But I think I can do that. Ya know… the taking it one day at a time thing.”

Elated, Ian lifted Mickey’s chin with two fingers pressing his smiling lips into Mickey’s. He was just about to deepen the kiss when there was a sudden loud knock at the door.

“Do you two have your mics on?” Shouted the voice from behind the door. Ian heard the quiet swipe of the master keycard every crew member had to all the rooms. He pushed Mickey gently out of the bathroom to put some distance between them, shooting Mickey an apologetic look right as Olivia entered the room.

“Good morning you two!” Olivia greeted in her overly optimistic tone. Usually she didn’t annoy Ian as much as the other assistants did but between her icy demeanor back in the penthouse and the thirty minutes they spent reshooting the stupid date card reveal she was the last person Ian wanted to see.

“Are you guys ready?” she asked, her eyes darting between the two of them, they both nodded solemnly and followed her and the lone cameraman with her into the hallway.

The bus ride was awkward as hell. Kyle kept whispering to his apparent new found buddy Dustin who kept shooting daggers back at Ian. Mickey could feel Ian tense up every time a dig was made about him.

“Relax,” muttered Mickey. “Don’t let them see that it’s getting to you.”

“It’s not my fucking fault the producers fucked up.”

“Right,” Mickey confirmed, resisting the urge to give Ian’s knee a squeeze. “Just relax.”

Ian’s head fell back into the headrest, “I have a feeling this is going to be a long fucking day.”

Mickey could do nothing but agree.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey you guys!" Drew exclaimed, greeting the contestants as they walked into a large gym with a giant boxing ring in the middle. They all greeted him back in the typical overdone cheeriness. Kyle wasted no time and walked straight to Drew, planting a giant kiss on his lips.

“Wow, I’m happy to see you too Kyle.”

Kyle beamed and shot Ian a sidelong glare then turned back to Drew, “Just wanted to show the rest of these guys who was mine.”

Ian had to suppress rolling his eyes as he looked over at Mickey who smirked back at him.

“So today, we’re going to do some boxing! We’re just gonna do a few warm ups and then we’ll set up some sparring. Whomever wins gets some alone time with me, and yes Jerry the mats and bags have been thoroughly sanitized, I’ve checked.”

There was an eruption of sniggers as Jerry blushed at the bachelor.

They got changed into the clothes they were told to bring, Ian taking note on how good Mickey looked in his all black attire, a simple black tank top with matching basketball shorts.

“I don’t even know what he sees in that dude,” he heard Kyle mutter to Dustin as the group walked back into the main area of the gym. “He seems so fake to me.”

Ian heard Mickey’s voice boom at the muscle head. “Hey the only fake thing here is your teeth man so shut the fuck up.”

“Oh excuse me, I forgot about Ginger’s pit bull over here.”

Mickey quickly spun around to face Kyle. “You got a problem?”

“Hey,” Ian intervened, grabbing Mickey’s bicep. “Just let it go.”

Mickey backed off but not before leaning briefly into Ian’s touch. It was the small things Ian noticed, that made him most attracted to the brunette.

They made it into the large room and were told to start warming up. Mickey walked away from Ian to create distance between the two of them.

“Need help stretching Ian?”

It was Drew, looking as charming as ever, a pang of guilt struck Ian’s chest. He obviously couldn’t say no to the guy and the camera’s were all over the place. He nodded in faux eagerness and got onto his back. Drew lifted Ian’s left leg, pushing it towards his chest.

“So we meet again huh?” Drew said with a smile. “How did I get so lucky?”

Ian smiled back. The horse-back riding date had been fun despite the soreness he still felt in his inner thighs and ass from never being on a horse before, but he hadn’t had much time with Drew, which he was quite thankful for because his mind was elsewhere.

“Just sort of happened I guess,” Ian quipped, he could feel quite a few pair of eyes on him but he did his best not to look, he had to focus. He had to keep his game face on.

They talked and bantered some more until Drew had to go talk to some of the other contestants. Ian took that as his chance to get a look at Mickey who wouldn’t look back at him. Instead he was already begun to jab at one of the bags, his stance rigid and powerful. His thoughts wondered to last night when he felt Mickey pulse around him, the tight overwhelming feeling that surrounded him with each thrust into the brunette. He already missed it and was dying for more.

After thirty minutes each guy got assigned their own punching bag and was instructed on the basics, which Ian didn’t need to hear, since he had some one on one combat training in the army.

He started off with the defensive stance, his weight distributed across both legs; knees slightly bent turning his body inward and jabbing the bag. He went on this way for a while along with the other combo’s until he felt Drew’s hands on his hips.

“Looking good Ian,” Drew purred. “You have great form, but you should pivot your body more.”

Ian did his best not to tense as Drew maneuvered him, instead keeping up the act, he leaned back into Drew.

“This right?” He asked innocently, turning his head to meet Drew’s eyes.

Drew smiled and pecked Ian on the lips, “Yup.”

“Dude what the hell did that thing do to you?” said a voice from next to them.

Ian averted his gaze from Drew to see Mickey pummeling the bag in front of him.

“He’s uh, really getting into it huh?” questioned Drew, still holding onto Ian’s hips. The crew tilted their heads at Drew signaling him to go over and check on Mickey. He gave Ian an apologetic look as he walked over to Mickey, the camera crewing following suit. A dull feeling of dread panged at Ian’s chest. Mickey had to know that he was just faking the flirting with Drew, he had to know it wasn’t real. This show wasn’t fucking real.

Drew seemed to have comforted Mickey with his words because Ian saw him visibly relax beneath Drew’s touch, which spurred his own jealousy to start biting at him. He tried his best to focus more on his breathing and ignoring the two of them until they were told to stop and where paired off for sparing.

“…And we will have Ian with Kyle and after that it will be Mickey and Dustin,” the assistant concluded.

Of fucking course he was with Kyle. The contestants all lined up against the outside of the ring, cheering and whooping at each sparring match, encouraged by the producers to really play it up. When it was his turn in the ring, Ian threw his fists up in the starting defensive position, Kyle squinting at him in confusion before mirroring his stance, albeit in a much clumsier manor. When the whistle blew signaling the start of their match, Ian immediately lunged forward, throwing a jab. Kyle squawked in fear, throwing his hands over his head and jumping backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling on his ass. Ian dropped his hands at his sides, unable to stop the annoyed expression from overtaking his face as he rolled his eyes. The rest of the match went about the same, the pretentious asshole clearly having been all talk. He was so much of a klutz that Ian thought even Jerry could win against him.

“Not fair!” Kyle shouted once the referee blew his whistle and indicated that Ian was the winner. “He cheated!”

Ian scoffed, taking out his mouth guard, “How the hell did I cheat? You can’t cheat in sparring.”

“Probably on some roids, no way gingers can be that ripped and… and punchy.”

All Ian could do was laugh in disbelief, wondering where the hell they found this guy and if the crew was feeding him this line of bullshit.

“Sure man,” Ian said, surrendering so he could save his own brain cells. “Whatever you say.”

He walked off the ring flashing Drew a smile as he walked to the “winners” side. He watched as Mickey swaggered onto the ring followed behind by a bored looking Dustin.

Watching Mickey move around the ring was mesmerizing. His body moved with ease as he effortlessly dodged Dustin’s lackluster jabs. Ian swallowed compulsively as Mickey threw one punch after another, his Southside swagger pouring out of him.

It was hot, so fucking hot. His strong thighs, thick biceps, and the way his back was glistening with sweat were more than enough to do Ian in. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. Not only did Drew have his eyes glued onto the brunette but so did all the other contestants, the lustful looks on a few of their faces giving Ian the courage to keep staring, knowing he wouldn’t stand out.

After declaring his victory Mickey walked out of the ring, his eyes blazing. Ian wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but the angry look on Mickey’s face concerned the redhead. They had to have a real talk tonight, get something out in the air and figure out what the hell they were going to do with the situation they were in.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey ears were ringing.

He tried his best to restrain himself he had to admit, but seeing Ian with Drew wrapped around him, it was almost too much. Mickey didn’t share and the worse part of it all was that Ian seemed to be enjoying every bit of attention Drew was giving him.

He could hear Ian walking silently behind him, his footsteps in match with his own. They couldn’t say anything to each other, not yet anyways, Aaron and Jack were on the same floor as them and they were walking in front of them As soon as Mickey entered the room he heard Ian say his name. He ignored him at first, his heart pumping with adrenaline, his body all but trembling as he remembered the way Drew looked at Ian, the soft kiss they shared. Mickey reached around and undid his mic, turning it off and chucking it into the ugly patterned chair in the corner.

“Ian, I don’t want to do this right now.”

“C’mon Mickey!” He felt Ian grab his arm and tugged at him to turn around. Reluctantly Mickey met Ian’s olive gaze. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded, “Just tell me.”

Mickey swallowed. Ian had must have taken his mic off too. It was too much, he hated that they were being controlled; he was tired of being fucking owned and wrapped around in wires.

“I just – _fuck!_ ” He pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to take a steady breath. He needed a fucking cigarette.

“Mickey,” Ian said again, so softly. Mickey looked back up into his eyes. The same eyes that looked at him in a way no one else ever had before.

The burning sensation in his chest erupted as he remembered how Drew and Ian looked at each other. It made him want to punch something, so he did. He punched the bag harder and harder but to no avail, no amount of physical exertion was enough to rid him of the sickly burning sensation forming inside of him. He loathed this feeling, this feeling of losing what was right in front of him. But Milkovich’s didn’t do jealousy. They took what they wanted.

And right now, what he wanted the most was right there in front of him.

Mickey lunged forward, grabbing the back of Ian’s neck and pulling him into a deep aggressive kiss. He knew Ian hasn’t been expecting it by the surprised grunt he made into Mickey’s mouth but he gave in instantly, sliding his tongue into Mickey's mouth as Mickey reciprocated with his own. He felt Ian’s big freckled hands rake fingers into his hair pulling him in as close as possible, then continued to roam down his body until he met Mickey’s plump ass with a tight squeeze. Mickey growled against Ian’s mouth, pushing his ass back into Ian’s ready hands.

“Take your fucking jacket off.”

Ian obediently shrugged his jacket off, pulling his tank top over his head immediately after. His skin still had the smallest hint of sweat from earlier, shining off his body. Mickey licked his lips in anticipation, taking in the sight of the tall, sexy man before him, drinking his toned body in with his eyes. Yes this is exactly what he wanted.

Ian stepped forward, reaching for the hem of Mickey’s tattered tank and shredding it off of Mickey’s sweaty body. Their chests pressed together, finding each other’s mouths again as Mickey’s hands roamed over Ian’s sticky soft skin, fingers feeling the tight muscles in his back. Ian’s warm hands made their way down into Mickey’s jeans palming his cock, radiating heat throughout Mickey as his dick twitched against the gentle touch.

“Fuck you feel so good Mick,” Ian moaned into Mickey’s hot mouth, he lowered his head to bite the base of Mickey’s neck, his tongue darting out to taste him. “You’re so fucking hot.”

He allowed the redhead to pull off his pants and boxers with one swift yank, the skin on skin contact when Ian touched his erect dick sending warm sparks of pleasure through his legs.

“Feel so good,” repeated Ian, their foreheads touching as he continued to grope Mickey’s sack. Their eyes met, intoxicating desire and longing locking their gaze together as they felt each other. Ian’s face was flushed red and even though moments before Mickey had thought Ian had truly wanted Drew, his captivating stare told Mickey everything he needed to know.

Their lips clashed together, stealing the air out of each other’s lungs, Mickey consuming Ian with his desire, touching every inch of the redhead that he could. Making his marks the only way he knew how. He felt himself be pushed back into the bed as Ian slid in between his spread legs, biting Mickey’s skin with sharp quick bites. His back arched as Ian flicked his tongue across Mickey’s nipple. He licked and nipped his way up Mickey’s body his temple connecting with Mickey’s.

“Fucking need you Mick, only you, there’s no one else.” He cupped Mickey’s face into his hands, his eyes fiery with the exact amount of need Mickey had snaking through his body. “You hear me?”

The heated stare twisted into the slightest look of panic as Ian looked down on him. Mickey lifted up and gave him a reassuring kiss. “Yeah. Yeah I hear you.” He grabbed the back of Ian’s head bringing him down closer.

“Gonna take care of you Mickey,” Ian mewed, rising back up and wrapping his hand loosely at the base of Mickey’s throat then snaked it down his chest, then abdomen, to his thighs, all while sending sparks of intensity across Mickey’s skin. He reached for the lube, coating both hands before pushing Mickey’s thighs further apart with his knees. He grasped Mickey’s shaft gently, toying with the tip with his thumb with one hand while pushing his index finger into Mickey’s heat with the other.

The overwhelming sensation flooded Mickey; he grabbed at the redheads forearms, thrusting his hips up as waves of pleasure washed over him.

He felt Ian’s warm, wet mouth envelop his cock, his tongue working its magic as it made its way up and down his shaft, his hand lightly squeezing Mickey’s sack. Mickey all but melted into the bed from the redhead’s touches. A second finger entered him and Mickey could feel himself be stretched open as Ian scissored his fingers. Mickey’s nails dug into the sheets as he let out a moan.

“Turn around,” Ian demanded, as he gave Mickey’s balls a tight squeeze, “Wanna see that ass.”

Mickey flipped onto his back eagerly, rising himself up onto his hands and knees. He turned back at Ian to give him a cocky smirk.

“Yeah that’s right,” Ian husked, licking his lips as he gave Mickey’s ass a well earned slap, watching it bounce slightly from the action. “Fucking beautiful ass.”

He felt Ian’s hands grab at his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh,, feeling it’s roundness as Mickey pushed back into them, ready for what was next, his body sparking with anticipation. He jerked forward as Ian bit into its plumpness, finishing it off with a wet lick.

“Going to take care of this ass you hear me?” Ian cooed, swiping his tongue all the way across Mickey’s tail bone, the mixture of warm saliva and the spinning fan from above causing his skin to erupt with goose bumps.

“Will you stop praising my ass and fuck it already?” Mickey panting. He meant it to be demanding but needy desire twisted his tone and he was quickly losing his resolve. Especially once he looked back to see Ian still fiddling with his ass, looking at it like it was a five course meal.

“I can’t help it Mick, your ass is the eighth fucking wonder of the world and I’m gonna admire and praise it like it deserves.”

A loud groan shook through Mickey’s chest as Ian placed all three fingers back into his ass, his fingers slick with lube, barely brushing against his prostate, a burst of bliss with each touch.

“Ian,” Mickey panted, his thoughts becoming nonexistent. “fucking get on it.”

Ian sprinkled kisses long Mickey’s spine as he continued to move his fingers around, circling the furl slowly. Once he reached Mickey’s tail bone he released his hand and gave both of Mickey’s cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Ready?”

Mickey’s body shook again, he was more than ready, he needed to feel Ian inside him again, “Fucking hell. God damn it Red, YES!”

He felt the tip of Ian’s cock enter his channel with a gentle pop as he breathed into the feeling. Ian pushed in slowly, stilling to gaze down at his lover once his hips were pressed firmly against his ass cheeks. The fullness felt good but Mickey needed more. He needed to feel everything and he needed it now.

Mickey bucked his hips back, growling over his shoulder, “Fucking move, Red.”

Not needing to be told twice, Ian pulled back and snapped his hips into Mickey, the smaller man’s body jerking forward at the unexpected jolt, his head knocking into the headboard. He reached up to braced his palms against it as Ian found a rhythm, the sharp jab of Ian’s cock inside him causing him to shout out in pleasure. Ian moaned as Mickey pressed back against him, the leverage his hands on the headboard gave him making every thrust hit hard, both men knowing it wouldn’t take much to bring them over the precipice of pleasure.

Ian gripped Mickey’s hip tight in one hand, the other reaching around to grab Mickey’s cock and pulled on it frantically matching each pull with each thrust. Their pace turned frantic, each jab pressing perfectly against Mickey’s prostate, pushing him over the edge, his body convulsing, his seed spilling over onto Ian’s hand as Ian emptied into his body, their matching moans low and relieving. They slowed to a stop, Mickey dropping down onto the mattress, Ian’s body gently falling on top of him.

“I meant what I said Mickey,” Ian’s words tickling Mickey’s ears; his voice raspy like it was in the morning Mickey as his cock softened inside him.

Ian pulled him with a searing kiss, full of passion and promise. He pulled back slightly, continuing to speak against Mickey’s swollen lips. “I want you, and I will fucking fake my way though this shit if it means staying here with you.”

Mickey swallowed, nudging Ian to get off of him, the redhead rolled to his side and Mickey turned to him. Both staring at each other as Mickey fought through his frazzled post sex brain.

“Hated seeing his hands on you,” he grumbled. He hated how weak he sounded but he knew he had to tell Ian, he deserved that much.

“Do you think I like the way he looks at you?” objected Ian. “Shit you looked so good today all I wanted to do was…” He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss onto Mickey’s lips his own lips forming into the smallest pout. “That. I wanted to do that.”

Mickey laughed at that but the somberness of the subject quickly returned.

“I can too. Fake it I mean,” Mickey uttered, brushing away the stray hair that had fallen against Ian’s forehead. “It’s just, what’s going to happen if one of us get eliminated, what if you get to know him and I don’t know, fucking think he’s…”

“I won’t,” Ian snapped. He already knew what Mickey was going to say for he probably had the same fears no doubt.

Mickey sighed rolling off the bed. “You don’t know that man.”

Ian sat up, grabbing his wrist. “I do know that. If you get eliminated I am coming with you and that’s that.”

Mickey shook his head, “Yeah and have them fine you $10,000? Ian you’re husband material or whatever the fuck you say, they can’t lose you!

Ian shrugged. “I’d do it for you.”

Mickey sighed. “Fuck, you really are stubborn aren’t you?”

Another shrug, “It’s the Irish in me.”

That made Mickey shake his head. “So you really want to do this? This whole faking it bullshit?”

“Yes,” Ian confirmed. ”Yes I do.” He tugged down on Mickey’s wrist; no longer wanting to fight, Mickey went willingly into Ian’s arms. They stayed there for a moment; their naked, sweat glistened skin pressed up against each other, Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat slow as the taller man nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Ian whispered, ticking Mickey’s neck. “I know it’s only been three weeks…”

“Twenty-three days,” Mickey said suddenly, he chewed on his lower lips and tried his best to hide the blush from his admission that was now creeping up his neck.

Ian looked up into Mickey’s eyes, his own irises shining with amusement. “You’ve been counting huh?”

“Fuck you,” laughed Mickey; bringing Ian back close to him. It was his turn to breathe him in, the musty aroma exenterating his senses. He thrummed his fingers against Ian’s shoulder blade, another question rising into his mind.

“What about after the show?”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked, unwrapping himself from the brunette. Mickey shifted so he was straddling Ian’s lap, Ian placed his hands on Mickey’s hips holding him still, his eyes gentle and questioning.

“I mean if we both get eliminated… don’t we gotta stay quiet for a few weeks?” Mickey wondered, toying with his bottom lip.

Ian mirrored Mickey with his lip, neither men wanting to think that far ahead when the present was just too good. “Then we figure that out too.”

Mickey let out a defeated sigh. “You really think this shit will work?”

“If we play our cards right,” Ian nodded, “then I don’t see why not.”

Mickey looked down, the corners of his mouth turning involuntary upwards, the residue of his cum hardening on his lower stomach. “We’re a mess man.”

“Figuratively or literally?”

“Both,” Mickey clarified, swatting Ian’s shoulder. “Gotta take a shower or something.”

Before he could get up himself Ian had maneuvered him into the shower, kissing him and touching his bare skin along the way. He rested his forehead on the ginger’s back as they waited for the water to warm; pressing kisses onto the freckled skin as he followed him into the steamy alcove.

They held onto each other under the steady stream of water, soaking in the warmth of the shower and each other, they washed and cleaned each other, neither man wanting to keep their hands off of the other. It was soft, it was warm and it was nothing Mickey was used to but all of sudden the intimacy with Ian was something he craved. His body was tired and sore as he allowed Ian to rinse him off. They dried one another with the hotel’s large white fluffy towels and Ian wasted no time taking Mickey’s hand into his and guiding him into the clean bed.

The two exhausted men molded into each other once more, Ian’s arms wrapped securely around Mickey, their hands still intertwined as Mickey’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. He pressed his back against Ian, feeling the warm strong chest breathing shallowly, listened to the soft snores that had been lulling him to sleep for the past twenty-three days never feeling more at ease.

It was enough, it was more than enough, to be in the other man’s arms, and he was going to allow it to be enough for him because maybe he could have something good, even if the situation was as fucked up as it was. Maybe it was possible for Mickey Milkovich to fall in love and for someone to fall in love with him in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You deserve the world Mickey.


	8. Week Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took way longer than expected. Life sort of got in the way this time. Thank you all for your patience :)
> 
> This chapter is my more fluffy / filler chapter, I'm just setting things up with what comes next :) Also it may seem strange that Mickey and Ian are getting alot of one on one time this week but remember the bachelor has to go on other dates with other men and "seconded one on one dates" are saved more towards the end. But hey our boys get more alone time and that is all the matters :)
> 
> Anyways, this was beta'd by Kait. <3

They couldn’t remain in their peaceful embrace for long. Ian’s eyes fluttered opened to see the room had gone dark. The sun had settled behind the mountains and the only light in the room illuminated from the bathroom. Pressing himself closer to the brunette he reached his neck up to look at the time. 7:15 pm. They had to be downstairs in the pool area for the rose ceremony in forty-five minutes.

Thinking they could spare a few more minutes before anyone came busting down their door looking for the two of them, he pressed his nose into the crook of Mickey’s neck and inhaled his scent. It was warm, comforting and nothing at like one would expect coming from someone that had such a hard exterior. Ian loved the way the smaller man smelled. It was then he knew he was falling hard for the man who was currently wrapped in his arms and he was going to stay true to his word about faking through this shit. He wanted to be with Mickey; he didn’t have a doubt in his mind about that.

He felt the smaller body stir beneath him. Mickey raised his head up and looked around before turning his head towards Ian, a faint content smile etched upon his face. “Guess we gotta get up, huh?” he asked, his adorably raspy voice music to Ian’s ears.

‘Yeah,” Ian sighed, pulling the brunette closer to him. “We have to be up there in forty-five.”

Mickey nodded and much to Ian’s effort to keep him wrapped up in his arms, Mickey wiggled his way out and sat up. His faint smile grew into a wide grin as Ian felt Mickey’s hand brush through his red locks. “You still want to do this Red?”

The look on his face was confident but Ian could hear a slight waver in Mickey’s voice.

“Of course I do,” Ian sighed, leaning into Mickey’s touch.

Mickey took the hand Ian had his cheek in and patted it gently. “Good now get the fuck up and get dressed.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived down to the pool area just as the crew began to finish up. Some crazy haired chick was yelling from the balcony that they needed an extra twenty candles because the ambiance wasn’t quite right. Another guy was frantically throwing rose petals into the pool because why the fuck not? And Ian was pretty sure Jerry was already on his fifth glass of champagne by the way he was stumbling about. Nick of all people was trying to take the glass out of his hand but it seemed like Jerry wasn’t having any of it.

“How any of them can still stand that bubbly piss water I’ll never understand,” Mickey muttered. He looked phenomenal in his dark navy suit with matching navy tie. Ian was pretty sure he wore the same suit during week two except with a black tie. They were expected to wear a different suit each week but there was no way half of the guys were doing that shit. Who could possibly afford eight different suits at a time? Hell, who had eight different suits just lying around? Maybe Kyle and Michael K but those were the only two Ian could think of. He felt bad for the girls who went on this show. He remembered his roommate’s girlfriend saying that they had to sometimes take out bank loans to afford the dresses required for the show and had to do their own hair and makeup.

Just one of the many, many reasons Ian was thankful he was a male who liked cock.

“You look good by the way Red,” Mickey muttered quietly as he reluctantly took a sip out of the bubbly beverage, grimacing as it went down his throat. He looked back at Ian to give him one last look through, his lips curled into an enticing smirk.

“Thanks,” replied Ian. He could feel his ears turn red and he wanted nothing more than to grab Mickey by the tie and give him a kiss but he knew he had to keep his hands still and his mind focused. There would be time to touch each other later. Hopefully. “I guess we should go mingle.”

Mickey nodded, his face looking less than thrilled. “Guess so.” He chugged down the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the lip of a marble fountain that stood next to him. “Maybe go find myself some real booze.”

Ian laughed and shook his head as he watched Mickey walk towards one of the handlers, most likely asking for any type of whiskey.

“Okay!” Olivia’s voice boomed over a megaphone. “I need all the contestants to gather where I’m standing! Drew will be out any minute.”

The men idly walked over to the far end of the pool area, where a large couch was spread out for them facing the pool. Mickey stood at the far end, a glass with his usual amber liquid in hand. He was facing forward with a passive expression, in game face mode and remaining focused. Ian sighed and tried his best to do the same.

“Looks like you two made up.”

Ian squeezed the steam of his glass, jumping at the comment. Theo was standing behind him, looking at him with a playful grin. Ian felt his pounding heart ease as his mind registered who it was.

“Yup,” nodded Ian. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch, remembering the two amazing times in the past twenty-four hours where he had Mickey underneath him, his tight ass wrapped around his aching hard cock, the soft grunts he made, the touches that electrified this entire body, the kisses that he simply could not get enough of. Ian sighed blissfully at the still fresh memory.“You can say that.”

Theo bumped Ian’s shoulder with his own. “Glad to hear it.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Nick asked.

“Ian pissed Mickey off last week,” Theo replied smoothly. “You know Mickey. Ian probably breathed in his general direction or something.”

Ian nodded at Nick, “Yeah, uh it was something stupid, things are fine now.”

Luckily, Nick didn’t need much more convincing than that and simply nodded and turned back around, right as Olivia was giving everyone the signal to be quiet.

They did their usual over exaggerated hollering when Drew appeared out of the doors of the hotel. Ian gave him his best flashy smile and made sure he was clapping hard enough to make it believable. Drew did look good tonight, as always, but Ian had made up his mind that Mickey was undoubtedly the most beautiful man in the room.

They branched off into groups, Kyle of course going instantly for Drew and almost plowing Michael K out of the way in the process. He didn’t hesitate to look back at Ian, shooting him a satisfied smirk as Drew grabbed his hand and walked off. Ian rolled his eyes at him, not because he cared that Kyle got to him first but because the crew had made an effort to put the idea of Ian being some kind of attention seeker into Kyle’s head and Kyle believed them.

“Ian?”

Ian turned to see one of the handlers with a camera man next to her. “Can we have an interview with you?”

“Sure,” Ian said, following her to one of the tables that were set out further than anything else for privacy.

“So,” The mousy girl began. She leaned back into her chair, her over drawn eyebrow arched inquisitively. “I hear Kyle wasn’t so happy with you getting two date cards this week.”

She was trying way too hard to be like Olivia but seriously lacking the natural confidence that seemed to flawlessly flow out of Olivia. She wasn’t afraid to ask the hard and dirty questions and Ian already knew what she was trying to get out of him so he had a better chance at preparing mentally.

“Yeah,” replied Ian. “He wasn’t.” He did his best to keep his answers as vague as possible.

“Do you think he’s going to try to jeopardize your relationship with Drew? I did hear him talking about how you are a bit of attention whore and maybe you are just on this show to become famous?”

Ian had to bite down the snarky comment that was rising in his throat. He rolled his eyes; _of course_ Kyle was trying to talk shit.  Actually it was more likely the producers putting ideas into Kyle’s head. Whoever the culprit was, Ian was already bored with it.

“I don’t think Kyle could jeopardize my relationship with Drew if he tired,” Ian said, trying his best to keep his cool and not say the wrong thing. “I’m not here for fame, I’m here to find love, and Kyle can think what he wants but at the end of the day a relationship is what I came here for.”

That seemed to please the interviewer. She smiled fondly at Ian before asking her next question, “Do you think you are falling for Drew?”

Ian’s gut twisted.  The correct answer was no. That there was no possible way anyone could fall in love with anyone in this short amount of time. And then he saw Mickey standing across the pool pretending to give a shit about whatever the hell Nick was saying and then actually laughing at whatever Nick said. His smile was breath taking and Ian could almost hear his laugh amongst the chaos. It made his heart want to beat out of his chest how genuinely happy he looked and how beautiful he was.

Ian was lying to himself. Someone could fall in love in just a few short weeks if it is the right person.

“Yeah,” Ian said looking back at the interviewer, he stole one more quick glance at Mickey and said the words his heart was so sure of, “Yeah I am falling for him.”

They didn’t need to know he wasn’t talking about Drew. No, not in the least.

 

 He finished up his interview and was allowed to rejoin the cocktail party. He walked around, trying to spot Mickey or maybe Drew. Ian knew he needed to do some damage control just in case Kyle did say anything to the Bachelor but both Mickey and Drew were nowhere to be found.

Ian took a shallow breath, knowing damn well Mickey had no choice but to have some alone time with Drew. They had a game to play after all and they both needed to remain on the show as long as possible. However, the sting in his chest couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t wait for the day where he could have Mickey all to himself.

“Surprised you haven’t gone and interrupted Mickey and Drew yet.” He heard Kyle scoff from behind him. “Didn’t think you could stay out of the spotlight this long.”

Ian huffed, _here we go._ “You can think whatever you want dude.” He saw two cameras come closer to them. It was a planned ambush no doubt. “I’m not here for this petty bullshit drama.”

“It’s just bullshit that you got two dates this week,” Kyle whined.

Ian scoffed, “I’m sorry Drew wanted to see me twice this week. If you had such an issue with it why don’t you bring it up with him?”

Kyle’s jaw clenched but he said nothing and sauntered off, his buddy Dustin trailing behind him.

Ian glared at the cameras guys who clearly had been hoping for more of a fight but got the message when Ian turned away from them. He grabbed another flute of champagne and tossed it down, already wishing the damn show was over already.

The cocktail party went on for hours and while it seemed like Ian’s drama with Kyle was settling, more drama was forming elsewhere. Out of nowhere the contestants Derek, started something with Nick, calling him a fake and a player which Ian highly doubted was true. Even though he was a jokester, he seemed pretty committed to Drew. And then Brent, who Ian could barely even remember seeing apparently admitted to Drew that he wasn’t feeling any type of connection with Drew but still wanted to try. It was probably just a ploy for him to get some alone time with Drew now that Ian was thinking about it. The production of this show was becoming way too predictable.

When Mickey had finally reappeared he looked flushed and held an expression Ian couldn’t quite read. Drew was still speaking to him, leaning close and grinning from ear to ear with a slightly dazed look in his eyes. Ian froze in place, feeling strangely disconnected from his body when he noticed that Mickey’s lips were dark red and puffy. Ian tore his eyes away so the lump in his throat would go down easier. His heart tightened as they got closer and Ian wanted nothing more than to just walk away but he knew he had to get in sometime with Drew. Kyle most likely talked about Ian during their time together and Ian needed to do damage control to ensure he would get a rose tonight.

“Hey Drew,” Ian said with a wide smile, refusing to look at Mickey. “Mind if we go talk for a bit?” He rubbed his hand down Drew’s arm for good measure.

“Sure thing,” replied Drew, hooking his arm with Ian’s. Ian looked over to see if Mickey was watching but the brunette already had his back to them, making Ian’s heart sink a little bit more.

“You look great tonight Ian,” Drew said letting go of Ian’s arm and wrapping his own around Ian’s waist pulling him close. His cologne game was strong tonight and Ian was wishing the scent was a lot less Calvin Klein and a lot more Mickey Milkovich.

“Thanks,” Ian replied, forcing his best smile at the hazel eyed man. “So do you.”

They walked over  to an outdoor fireplace with a stone bench that wrapped around the perimeter, no doubt where Drew and Mickey had been just moments before.

“So,” began Ian, taking a seat next to Drew, the fire behind him was roaring with heat, warming Ian’s nerves as a camera man took his place right in front of them. “I just want to make sure Kyle didn’t say anything that may compromise our relationship.”

Drew shrugged, his eyes soft. “He seems to think you said something to score yourself an extra date with me.”

Ian raised his eyebrow not convinced that was all Kyle had said, “That’s it?”

Drew sighed and hung his head for a few moments, almost for too long to the point where Ian began to worry but he finally looked back up, no hostility in his expression which Ian took as a good thing.

“He said you may not be here for the right reasons,” Drew said. “But I’m having a really hard time believing that. At least,” he squeezed Ian knee, “I don’t want to believe that.”

“It’s not true,” Ian confirmed, putting his hand on top of Drew’s. “I came here for one reason and one reason only and that’s to find someone to be in a relationship with.”

Ian smiled genuinely at Drew but internally he felt the usual twinge of guilt. He had gone on the show to find love… it just was not turning out anything like he had expected.

Clearly that was enough for Drew because he smiled softly and pressed his lips to Ian’s, pulling him in for such a passionate kiss that Ian knew was clearly for the cameras more than him.

He thanked his lucky stars when Michael K interrupted them. Ian couldn’t even be mad, of course he wasn’t. He had just solidified his stay on the show for one more week. One more week with Mickey.

The cocktail party lasted for another half hour until the contestants were told to take their places on the stairs that lead out to the pool area. Ian positioned himself so he was standing on the step above Mickey. His heart fluttered when the brunette turned over and gave him a discrete smile.

“Hello gentlemen!”Drew greeted. He stood ten feet away from the group of contestants, to his left stood a pedestal with twelve roses placed neatly atop the fake marble.

Ian was thankful that Drew had believed him but he also felt guilty for stringing this guy along. But the heart wants what the heart wants and Ian knew he could never see Drew the way he saw Mickey, the connection just wasn’t there.

Drew had finished his opening speech and began to pass out the roses. Mickey was called first. He walked up and accepted the rose from Drew. Ian did his best to avert his eyes discreetly as Drew leaned down and gave Mickey a kiss on the lips. He couldn’t help the lump in his throat forming as Mickey walked back, a proud smile on his face.

_He’s faking it. You know he is. He wants to be with you. Now suck it up and deal._

Mickey returned to his spot in front of Ian. Ian continued to stare forward but felt the slightest touch of Mickey’s fingertips slide along the top of his hand. A warm wave of fire covered him and melted away all of his insecurities. How the normally brash shorter man knew he needed reassurance right then Ian didn’t know but it warmed his entire being knowing that Mickey could already read him.

 “Ian?”

Oh shit. Right. Rose Ceremony.

Ian’s head snapped up and met Drew’s eyes, warm and humble but didn’t send the same spark as a certain pair of blue eyes did. He gently maneuvered his way down the stairs, brushing his fingers up against Mickey’s as he walked down the steps.

“Ian, will you accept this rose?” asked Drew.

Ian smiled wide, “absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

It was around midnight by the time Mickey made it back to the hotel room. He was needed for the after the ceremony interviews and spilled his usual bullshit on how he thought Kyle was a load of shit, he could care less about the other guys, and yeah Drew and him made a connection tonight for sure. Whatever the hell that meant.

He did feel guilty though. At first he wanted to mess with Kyle and see how badly he could rile him up, so he took it amongst himself to interrupt Kyle and Drew amidst a heavy make out session. . Or at least Mickey thought it was making out. It looked more like Kyle was trying to suck Drew’s lower lip off his face in all honesty. When his plan worked and Kyle stormed off in a huff, Mickey felt vindicated seeing the tool not get his way for once but Drew was apparently in a touchy-feely mood which lead to some lip locking of his own. He tried his best to just stick to straight talking but then one of the handlers encouraged Drew to kiss him and then it was all downhill from that point. It didn’t progress beyond kissing but Drew’s hands didn’t feel right and his mouth certainly didn’t feel right. Mickey knew this would be difficult but he didn’t think it would be this hard to pretend. It was hard enough for him to enjoy kissing as it was and right now the only lips he wanted anywhere near his were a certain redhead’s.

He swiped his keycard and quietly entered the room, hoping Ian wasn’t sleep yet so they could talk. Or not talk. Mickey was hoping for the latter. It sounded pretty great right about now.

He found the living room and bedroom empty but he could hear running water coming from the bathroom. His eyes instantly went to his pillow on the bed.

_Fucking sap_ Mickey thought to himself. He tried to suppress his smile as he walked over to the pillow but since no one was currently in the room and the fucking butterflies were at it again he allowed himself to smile wide. On the pillow was the rose Ian had received that night.

Mickey heard a door click open and Ian came walking around the corner with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Mickey shook his head at the redhead’s shit eating grin.

Mickey plucked the rose off his pillow and lifted it up to show to Ian, “The fuck is this?” he asked, with no roughness in his tone. It was so difficult for him to keep his hard demeanor when Ian had this magical way of turning him into pure mush.

“My rose,” Ian said with a shrug, tilting his head so a strand of wet hair lay sloppily on his forehead. “I gave it to you and I’ll give you all the rest of the ones I get.”

“You’re such a fucking sap.”

Ian shrugged, his smile never faltering. “Some would say it was romantic Mickey.”

If his heart could actually burst from affection for the idiot redhead it would and he’d honestly die happy. “You’re ridiculous,”

Ian moved forward and captured Mickey’s lips with his own. His wet torso was dampening Mickey’s dress shirt but he didn’t mind. He had been missing this all night.

“Were you okay earlier?” Ian asked, caressing Mickey’s face. “You seemed worried about something.”

Mickey chewed his lower lip. He knew Ian would notice something wasn’t right. He just felt so guilty about the excessive kissing he had done with Drew.

He decided it was just best to spit it out. “Drew and I made out.”

He watched as Ian’s face crumbled, his eyes dropping as he swallowed thickly. Mickey reached out and squeezed Ian’s bicep.

“Hey,” reassured Mickey, taking his other hand and tracing Ian’s jawline with his thumb. “You... You know it means nothing right?”

He could tell Ian was trying to be okay with it, they both knew they had to be. Mickey was just happy Ian didn’t see it.

Ian was still not talking and Mickey could tell by the worried look on his face that there was only one way he could fix it. He reached up and kissed Ian hard on the mouth, bringing Ian’s forehead to meet his own.

“Only want you Red, you hear me? Everything else is just an act so we can stay on this damn show.”

His heart warmed as Ian’s slight frown broke in a grin, “Yeah, yeah I know Mick.”

Mickey ruffled the redhead’s hair. “Good, now…” He plucked his own rose out his lapel and shoved it gently into Ian’s chest. Ian’s hands wrapped around Mickey’s, his eyes all warm and puppy-dog like, “Here.”

Ian raised his eyebrows, “Getting soft on me huh Mick?”

The redhead had been making him soft since day one. “Fuck off, man.” He pressed his hands into Ian’s chest and kissed him hard. He felt Ian’s arms wrap around him, holding him close and then snaking down to give Mickey’s ass a hard squeeze.

Ian’s mouth moved up against Mickey’s ear, whispered low into it. “Wanted to feel this ass all night,” Ian whispered. “God Mickey you look so fucking good.”

It sent shivers down Mickey’s spine. Part of him wanted the taller man to rip him out of his tux and have his way with him, but the other part and unfortunately the stronger part was fighting exhaustion. When was the last time either of them had really slept?

Mickey nipped lazily at Ian’s neck trailing down his freckled shoulder and kissed it softly, “Fucking tired man, you’ve worn me out.”

“What if you just let me take care of you?” Ian asked, tilting Mickey’s chin up to kiss him again. “Let me do all the work.”

Mickey bit down on his lower lip not being able to resist the green-eyed man. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, his body becoming hungry.

Before he knew it Ian had him on his back on their bed hovering over him as he made work on taking off Mickey’s tux, batting Mickey’s hands away as tried to help.

“Said I was taking care of you remember?” purred Ian, “Just lie back and relax.”

Mickey did as he was told and laid back onto the soft mattress. Ian took his sweet time unbuttoning Mickey’s dress shirt. Each button seemed to take longer and longer to undo. Mickey wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or Ian was doing it on purpose. Either way it already slowly killing him. He needed to feel Ian’s skin on his own. Ian smiled down at him lavishly as he undid the last button making Mickey feel like he was melting like butter into the mattress. Ian smooth long fingers trailed slowly down Mickey’s torso, licking his lips as he stared down at him, his eyes were dark, ravenous and sent a exhilarating jolt straight down to Mickey’s dick.

“Ian,” breathed Mickey, arching his hips to give the redhead access to his pants that were quickly becoming uncomfortably tight. “Off.”

“Demanding aren’t we?” Ian said seductively, but he listened to Mickey and hastily took off his slacks keeping his boxer briefs on.

Ian’s warm hands palmed at the cloth of his boxers pressing gentle squeezes onto Mickey’s balls. Mickey couldn’t help himself; his hands were twitching and he needed to free his aching erection. He reached down pulling at the band of his boxers until Ian wrapped his hand around Mickey’s wrist and used his other hand to grab the other hand, jerking forward so the redhead was now hovering over Mickey, panting hard.

“I said I was doing all the work,” Ian reiterated, his lips barely touching Mickey’s. Mickey lifted his head attempting to bite the swollen red lips above him, testing the redhead on just how much he wanted to be in control.

But Ian wasn’t fucking around. He raised his head avoiding the brunette’s mouth. He released his grip on Mickey’s wrist and leaned back up his legs straddling the other man. Mickey’s hands were still bonded by Ian’s one large one while his other continued the same trickling sensation he did earlier with his fingers up and down Mickey’s torso until goose bumps erupted all over his skin. He pinched the sensitive flesh of Mickey’s nipple causing Mickey to yelp in surprise. Fuck this had never felt so good. He was never one for foreplay. Most of his sexual escapades were one night stands and he never wanted or desired to be touched like this. To be played with like this. He was completely at the redhead’s mercy and he allowed his body to relax. Allowed himself to melt into the mattress as Ian swirled his tongue around Mickey’s nipple, taking his sweet time on each one, nipping them softly. Jolt after jolt rushing through Mickey’s bloodstream. He began to pant harder as Ian trailed down Mickey’s toned torso with his long tongue. Mickey’s hands were released from Ian’s grip but he kept his hands clasped together above his head. If Ian wanted to be dominant then fuck he was going to give the gorgeous redhead exactly what he wanted.

“Look so good like this Mickey, always look so good,” growled Ian from above. He scooted back down and finally slid Mickey’s boxers off of him, his thick cock springing up. Ian took his thumb and shoved it in his own mouth, wetting it, then swirled and twisted it around  the plump head, not breaking contact with Mickey who was damn sure he was losing his mind. He could feel his own blood pumping through his veins, his heart hammering hard against his chest. He was losing it and Ian had barely done anything yet.

Then he felt the warm wetness of Ian’s mouth wrapped around him. His large tongue moving up and down Mickey’s shaft with such heat. Mickey dared to reach down and rake Ian’s red locks, gaining a sultry moan out of the redhead. The vibrations shook Mickey as he arched his hips up, getting Ian to take him all the way.

“Fuck Ian, fuck fuck fuck,” Mickey whined, his voice high and desperate. He could absolutely just come from the way Ian was working his cock.

He felt himself be pulled to the edge of the bed, stretching his legs more for Ian who smiled back at him wickedly. Mickey knew that’s what the taller man wanted. He was giving Ian anything he needed. Absolutely anything.

Ian ripped the towel off his own hips, reaching down to give his own cock slow, arousing strokes as he began to palm at Mickey’s balls once more with his other hand.

“You like that Mick? You like the way I touch you?”

Mickey nodded frantically, squeezed his eyes shut, begging his body to hang in there just a little longer. The hot trembling sensations cause his legs to move closer together. He wasn’t ready for it to end and by the way Ian was looking at him, all pale and fucking gorgeous and just Ian he knew the other man was just getting it started.

“I need a yes or no Mickey,” Ian said darkly giving Mickey’s balls a generous squeeze. Mickey’s body jumped as he fought for words, his throat closing up from suppressing a moan.

“Yes, yes Red. Fuck yeah I do.” He managed to get out, sighing deeply into Ian’s touch.

He felt Ian spread his knees back apart. Snaking his hands down Mickey’s thick thighs, the redhead knelt down on the floor and nipped playfully at Mickey’s inner thigh moving his way down each nip becoming sharper as he went down, followed by rough, wet kisses all the way up to. Then an intense wave of a pleasure crashed hard over him. His body convulsed as Ian’s hands spread his cheeks wide open and his drenched fat tongue swiped across his furl.

“Holy shit!” Mickey gasped, gripping the white cotton sheets as Ian continued to swirl his tongue around him, sliding it in and out of Mickey’s tight muscle, his lower stomach coiling like a hot spring, tighter and tighter as Ian made Mickey see stars with his movements.

Ian blew a gentle rush of cool air against his wet flesh, tingling goosebumps breaking out across Mickey’s lower body. Ian lifted himself up a hand reaching out to stop the movement of  Mickey subconsciously bringing his knees back together.

“Gonna fuck you now Mickey. Going to fuck you hard, show you you’re mine.”

_I am yours. All fucking yours_ Mickey wanted to reply but he was past words, his brain scrambled by Ian’s hot hands and wet tongue. He nodded frantically, his body breaking out into a sweat as Ian walked around him, taking the lube out of the drawer of the table next to Mickey’s  as he trailed his index finger along Mickey’s body. Mickey’s never knew he could love someone’s fucking hands before but here he was adoring Ian’s electrifying touches, thanking whatever deity there was out there for freckles and long fingers.

His eyes moved with Ian, watching the taller man resume his position until he paused, his face considering at first and then formed into a menacing, luscious grin.

“Get up,” Ian demanded darkly.

Mickey sprung out of the bed, his legs shaky as he walked towards the redhead, dying to feel his lips against his own.  Ian pulled Mickey into his arms, grasping at Mickey’s slicked back hair, their teeth clashing as their tongues slid together, wet and messy. Ian maneuvered Mickey to the bathroom by his hips, gently shoving him up against the bathroom counter until Mickey’s stomach was pressed against the cold granite.

Mickey looked up at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing himself. Fuck he looked a mess. His face was flushed and his lips were swollen, his lust drunk eyes wide, but it was the way that Ian was looking at him that truly took his breath away. It was as though he was at a loss of words for how Ian was looking at him, like he was seeing him for the first time. It wasn’t though; he had been looking at him that way the whole time they had been here. It sent a warm sensation throughout Mickey’s body, something he was not used to but was slowly becoming accustomed to thanks to the redhead.

Ian leaned in his chest against Mickey’s back, his low, seductive voice tickling Mickey’s ears.

“Wanted you to see what I see when I fuck you Mick. Want you to see how fucking good you look.”

Mickey pressed his ass back into Ian’s groin, his lips biting back a moan as Ian nibbled at his ear lobe. He heard the cap of the lube bottle snap open and felt the cold slickness against his hole.

“Ian,” panted Mickey, losing all his resolve as Ian massaged his taint. “Ian-”

“Shh,” hushed Ian, brushing his lips along the top of Mickey's spine. “Be patient Mick.”

He jolted forward, his snarky remark getting caught in his throat as Ian inserted two digits, spreading Mickey’s hole.. Ian slowed down his movements and used the two fingers to slide in and out of Mickey, each time moving slower and deeper.

“Fuck Ian,” Mickey sighed. “Please,” he gripped the countertop and attempted to take a breath but it came out shaky. “Oh fuck, please-“

Ian added a third finger, a moan erupting out of Mickey’s throat.

“Please what Mick?” Ian’s breath warm against Mickey’s neck. “Tell me.”

“Want your cock,” Mickey whined. He hated how wimpy he sounded but Ian was dissolving all his south side hardness with each brush of his prostate.

Ian reached around with his other hand and grasped onto Mickey’s hand against the counter, talking into the back of his neck. “Almost there Mick.”

“Red-“

“I think you’re ready Mick. Your ass is going to be so tight, so fucking tight for my cock.”

“Yes Yes-“ but he  didn’t finish what he was going to say because Ian’s hard dick pushed into him sending hot spikes of pleasure up his spine.

The redhead began to move at a steady pace inching his was in slowly until one sharp snap of his hips sent a guttural moan out of Mickey’s throat. Mickey looked up at the bathroom mirror, the look on Ian’s face as he rammed into him was otherworldly. Mickey had a lot of hot guys fuck him in his life but Ian… everything was so different with him, their physical connection bolstered by their emotional connection, making everything about Ian and what Ian was doing to his body that much hotter. Mickey reached down to tend to his own aching cock but was once again stopped by Ian grabbing his hand and pinning it to the counter, both their hands links together against the smooth surface.

“You’re gonna come untouched tonight Mick. Don’t you dare touch yourself.”

Mickey let out another moan, arching his head back as he basked in the way his ass clenched over the redhead’s dick, each brush of the prostate becoming more and more wonderfully unbearable. Ian pressed warm kisses down his spine, the pace of his hips slapping against Mickey’s ass picking up, the wonderfully obscene sound of slapping skin echoing off the bathroom walls. Ian moved his hands to Mickey’s hips, his fingernails digging into Mickey’s flesh so hard he was sure there would be bruising tomorrow. Mickey had fleetingly thought that he hoped he wouldn’t be required to take his shirt off on camera anytime soon because there would be no hiding the marks. The thought quickly passed as he snapped his head forward to take in the view of Ian’s fucking him. Ian’s lips were parted, his skin shiny with sweat, his fiery red hair a mess. The guy was so fucking beautiful and was most likely going to be the death of him, but with the way Ian was thrusting into him, he was willing to live the rest of his life just like this. Overwhelmed with ecstasy. Completely at the redheads mercy.

 His stomach tightened as the coil deep inside of him sprung up releasing his seed all over the bathroom counter, his ass tightening around Ian, the redhead letting out a harsh gasp as his cock pulsed inside of Mickey. Mickey leaned forward, his whole torso flat against the cold granite, feeling wonderful against his flushed skin. He felt Ian’s long arms wrap around his torso, his stomach pressed against Mickey’s back. Their raspy breaths synchronizing as they held each other close. Mickey could feel the tip of Ian’s tongue sweep over his shoulder before he bit down gently. He held on as long as possible, until the countertop’s edge began to dig uncomfortably into his stomach.

“Ey man, get up,” Mickey muttered, reaching his arm back and patting Ian’s ass.

“Can’t move,” Ian groaned into Mickey’s skin, his arms tightening around him.

“Yeah well you gotta. Kinda squishing me over here.”

Ian groaned dramatically but stood up, taking Mickey with him, turning his around in his arms. They looked into each other’s eyes, their hands tenderly touching each other’s flushed skin for a minutes or hours, Mickey wasn’t really sure. He watched as Ian’s blissed out post orgasm face turned content and soft before a shadow of morose took over.

“Hey,” Mickey said, cupping the taller man’s face. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to make Ian feel better, his post sex brain still filed blissfully with fog, but he knew he had to say something to reassure the man. “That was hot.”

Ian’s responding smile made his heart swoop. “I know I just- I…”

“Like to be in control?” quipped Mickey, the pad of his thumb tracing Ian’s cheek.  
“I don’t have a problem with that man, believe me.”

He felt Ian’s arms pull in tighter. “Not just that…just…ugh it’s gonna sound so lame.”

“You put a damn rose on my pillow Ian nothing could be more lame than that.”

“Fuck you,” Ian laughed, “I just wanted to show you what’s mine.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, pulling Ian’s head down by the back of his neck so their foreheads touched. “I am yours. Remember the whole faking conversation? It was all a ruse. Cameras were everywhere man. I had to do what I had to do.”

Ian sighed deeply, nodding even as his heart felt heavy. “I know I just…ugh. Okay this is just going to be something I have to get used to. Like we said, one day at a time.”

“Yup,” agreed Mickey, kissing him lightly. “Now quit fucking pouting man, we have a whole other week here.”

“Yeah, we do,” Ian said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Don’t even give me that look,” Mickey said with a laugh. ”I need to fucking sleep marathon man.” He pulled Ian in for another quick but deep kiss before walking through the bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder to see the blissful look on Ian’s face once more.   “Come on Red.”

 

* * *

 

It was day four of week four and Mickey was already bored out of his damn mind. Ian had gone to the hotel’s gym to work out and while he wanted to join him, he knew they needed to limit their public time together or people would start asking questions. Yesterday was Nick’s turn on a one on one date (the overly enthusiastic fucker couldn’t have been more thrilled) and today was a two on one date with Grant and Aaron. Two on one dates were dangerous because was guaranteed that one of the two guys would be going home. He knew Ian was worried of the possibility of him and Kyle being on the two on one date but somehow the producers chose differently. Mickey was just happy it wasn’t him either as he was beginning to feel claustrophobic inside this hotel room or always having a camera in his face. He was itching for some solitude with HIS camera.

It was still relatively early in the morning so no one was awake just yet with the exception of Ian and the crew (who were too busy getting ready to film the two on one date anyway.) The front desk workers barely noticed him stroll by as he made his way out of the first pair of patio doors located over the top lounge area. The cold October air bit at his nose as he hugged his coat closer to him. Spending two weeks in the blistering California sun had done him no favors, getting him so use to nice weather so he wasn’t ready for the harsh bite of cold a Colorado fall had waiting for him.

He hiked along an evergreen lined trail until he finally reached the top of a hill that overlooked the entire resort. The area around him was absolutely gorgeous and filled to the brim with the potential of a really good shot or two. It was no Central Park or some forgotten grungy street in Brooklyn, but it would do. He allowed the rush of pride to flow through him as he remembered his first big gig. When he first made it to New York he came in with an idea of a fresh new start with his sister but truthfully had no clue what direction he wanted to go in. He got a job bartending at some new up and coming brewery in Brooklyn where all the hipsters liked to visit frequently, much to Mickey’s dismay. On the bright side he made decent money, especially on the weekends, and Mandy seemed to be doing well at the little coffee shop right across the street from the brewery where she somehow managed to become assistant manager in less than two weeks of working there. Mandy never told him how she got the gig but Mickey had the hunch that the extremely attractive owner who only came in every few months to check on his businesses had something to do with it. Despite the settled nature of both their jobs and actually having money for once in his life he still felt like something was missing.

_They were sitting at the bar of Gas Light Brewery one night after Mickey’s shift idly chitchatting with the other bartender, Laney, when Mandy took a long drink of her beer and gave Mickey a sidelong glance._

_“You should open an Instagram account,” she stated putting her glass down and looking at an equally confused Laney and Mickey. “No Laney you should see the kind of pictures Mickey can take!” She grabbed his phone off the limestone bar stop before Mickey could stop her.  “See they’re all on his phone-“_

_Mickey swiftly took the device from her hands before she could unlock it. “What the hell did I tell ya about goin through my shit?”_  


_Laney, still wearing a baffled expression, laughed. “Mickey’s into photography?”_

_“And he’s good at it!” Mandy exclaimed pointing at Mickey, her wide blue eyes staring him down. “Show her Mick, she’ll tell you to open one.”_

_“Why the fuck would I want to open a hipstergram or whatever the fuck it’s called?”_

_Mandy rolled her eyes. “Because its 2018 and you still don’t have one!”_

_“I still wanna know more about Mickey and this photography stuff,” Laney said grabbing Mandy’s pilsner to refill it. “Who knew Mickey was so artsy.”_

_“I’m not artsy,” Mickey huffed, shuffling through his settings to change his password again. “And who the hell said I didn’t have one?”_

_Mandy turned back to Mickey. “You what?”_

_Mickey shrugged. “I said I have one.”_

_Mandy put her hand out. “Oh yeah? Show me.”_

_“Fuck no!”_

_Mandy swiftly pinched Mickey’s arm. “Fine fuck, fuck I’ll show you alright just… don’t laugh okay?”_

_“Never,” Mandy said with a smile that told Mickey she was not promising anything._

_With a heavy sigh Mickey logged onto his Instagram account. He didn’t have his name anywhere on it and his username was so discreet nobody would even think it was him. He chewed on his bottom lip before handing it over to Mandy, watching as she stared down at the small screen. It was only a second until she glanced back up at him, a coy smile forming at the corners of her lips._

_“AleksandrPhotography?”_

_Mickey shrugged not knowing what to say. He chose the name because he knew nobody would ever be able to find him._

_“Holy shit Mickey,” Mandy gasped as she scrolled through his photos. Laney leaned over the bar to get a better look, her eyes widening as Mandy continued scrolling._

_“Mickey, why haven’t you showed anyone these?” Laney asked, grabbing the phone from Mandy’s hands. “Dude these are incredible.”_

_Mickey squirmed in his seat. “They’re okay.”_

_“Okay? Mickey why didn’t you tell me that you were into photography? I’ve told you countless times about my cousin haven’t I? The one who works at that publishing company?”_

_“No one is gonna want to see my shit.”_

_Laney quirked an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”_

Laney was right, people did want to see his shit, in fact a lot of people wanted to see his shit. He started working as an assistant to some new age photographer who let Mickey actually express his opinions on different shots until he got enough gigs to go off on his own.

He was able to shoot for several different magazines, mostly online art magazines or traveling blogs about New York, but he was finally able to do what he loved and no longer had to hide it. It was the second time in his life where he had felt the most free, the first being when his piece of shit father had finally kicked the bucket.  Laney and Mandy weren’t the ones he really thanked for helping him finding his passion; they had just helped him make a career out of it. His mom on the other hand…

She was the one that had gotten him into photography; she always told him how important pictures were. She would go on about how one photo could bring back so many memories and so much emotion. As a child he would roll his eyes at her, too proud to care about shit like taking a couple of good pictures, too busy making sure his dad never saw how much he actually enjoyed participating in his mother’s hobbies with her.

“ _No son of mine is going to be into that faggot artsy shit like taking pictures.”_

So he stopped and his mother never helped him pursue his interests because she knew too well what would happen if she went against Terry’s word. He went on with helping his dad and his brothers with the “family business” which included participating in drug runs and shop lifting at the young age of eight.

There were times, however, when Terry had one too many beers and was passed out or when he had gone and got himself locked up where Mickey would flip through the photo albums his mother stored in the very back of their busted up media cabinet. She would show him magazines of beautiful people and stunning places and they would sit and wonder what it would be like to visit those places. Sometimes even Mandy would join them but most of the time those quiet moments in their dimly lit living room were reserved for just him and his mother.

He was ten years old when he got his first camera. It was just two days after his tenth birthday and he was wandering the streets in the sweltering August heat with a wide smile on his face because his mother had given him twenty dollars for his birthday. Twenty dollars that he could get anything he wanted with. He didn’t even have to steal it this time. Mickey was about halfway to the store passing an alley way when he saw it.

The dumpster was jam packed with garbage but on the very top, the sun reflecting off of its small protruded black lens like a homing beacon, was a digital camera. It was little busted but from what Mickey could tell it worked perfectly fine why anyone would throw something like this away was beyond him. He pressed the silver power button and watched the camera buzz to life. He played around with some of the other buttons and finally figured out how to see the photos the previous owner had taken. They weren’t anything special, in fact it looked like a toddler had taken the pictures for they were mainly images of things very close up, blurry and out of focus.

It was like he had a fairy god mother or whatever that fat fairy was called in the Cinderella movie Mandy wouldn’t stop watching. His family could barely afford the electric bill let alone a camera, something Mickey had secretly always longed for.

He gingerly placed the camera in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and walked cautiously to the store, not wanting to risk dropping the camera and also fearing that some homeless person would try swipe it off of him. The camera ran off of AA batteries so with doing some quick math in his head he got as many packs of batteries as he could with just twenty bucks and walked joyfully back to his house.

His Ma was so happy for him, instantly showing him how the camera worked. They spent the rest of the afternoon taking pictures of everything around them and of each other.

It was by far the best birthday he had ever had.

A few months later he swiped a book about photography from the library and learned everything he could about the skill from lighting, aperture, shutter speed to composition. He soaked it all up not ashamed of liking something that seemed so simple but created so many cool things.

When his dad was released from prison a few months later he had to hide his camera and the books and go back to pretending. It was only when his dad was out on one of his benders or passed out on the couch when he allowed himself to bring out his camera, playing around with the lighting in his room and creating different images.

Mickey had his system down pat. It was a secret only between him, his ma, and Mandy, until one day when he was distracted and accidentally left the camera out.

Mickey pushed that memory down back into its box before his chest could begin to tighten. He hated thinking about that day and remembering it wouldn’t help the aggravated mood he was already in. He was trying to escape the chaos in his mind, not make more of it.

He placed his camera bag down on the cobblestone and took out his newest baby; his Nikon D750. He took a moment to admire the device still not believing that he got so lucky and was able to afford such a beautiful camera. He was a professional now, an actual professional. His Ma would be proud.

“Fuck,” he huffed, annoyed with his own sentimental bullshit. He turned the camera on and got down on one knee. He angled the camera upwards as he looked through the lens and snapped the photo. He checked it in his view finder feeling content as he looked up against the clear blue sky and moved on to his next destination.

 

* * *

 

 Ian ran up the stairs two at a time. He should have been cooling down but he couldn’t help himself. Being stuck in this once glamorous hotel was causing it to lose its appeal and was now more like an oversized stuffy log cabin that he was trapped in with no way out.

They weren’t allowed to go anywhere. They had to stay on the grounds no matter what and if it was an emergency the crew needed to know as soon as possible. Not that they would do anything about it right away. Yesterday Dustin twisted his ankle trying to look cool and he slipped into the hot tub. It took the crew about two hours to give him any kind of attention, Grant got tired of waiting and went and grabbed Dustin ice and had it elevated in a matter of minutes.

So he was stuck. But he had no real reason to complain because at least he was stuck here with Mickey. He entered the hotel room and his eyes immediately honed in on noticed Mickey lying down on the middle of _their_ bed, staring intently at his camera. His face was peaceful and he looked so content it made Ian’s heart flip.

The past few nights Ian had noticed Mickey was a pretty restless sleeper. He would be still at first but then there was the twitching and last night there was some light trashing. Mickey accident kicked Ian’s shin startling him awake. Mickey’s eyes were on him when his eyes opened, wide and afraid. Ian stared at him calmly not quite sure if Mickey wanted to be touched or not. So he waited until the brunette was done panting to reach out towards him, rubbing his palm up and down Mickey’s arm.

_“You okay?” Ian whispered._

_It was dark but Mickey was still close enough for Ian to see him swallow._

_“Yeah,” his voice rough. “Yeah sorry man. Bad dream I guess.”_

_Ian moved in closer and Mickey melted back into him. Ian waited until his breathing became shallow and his body was fully relaxed before he fell asleep again._

Seeing the scared, distressed look on Mickey’s face when Ian had woken up twisted at his heart .He never wanted to see Mickey like that again. He’d much rather see Mickey the way he was now. Glowing and happy and all by the silly fancy looking camera he had in his hand.

 “Hey,” Ian greeted softly not wanting to startle the brunette. “What cha doing?”

Mickey arched his neck and gave Ian a warm smile followed by some biting on his lower lip as he raked his eyes over Ian’s glistening body.

“I uh,” Mickey stammered almost dropping what looked like a very expensive camera on his face. He flipped over onto his stomach so he could have a better hold on it. “Just checking out these shots.” Ian smiled as he saw the base of Mickey’s neck turn red.

Mickey glanced at Ian then back at his camera, chewing his lower lip he jerked his head gesturing Ian to come over. “Wanna see?”

Ian beamed at him as he walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Mickey lifted himself up to mirror Ian and handed over the camera.

Ian clicked through the shots Mickey had taken, his breathe hitching more with every breathtaking picture. He didn’t know shit about photography but he knew  that what he was looking at were some of the most beautiful pictures he’d ever seen.

“Shit Mickey,”  he sighed clicking back to look at his own personal favorite; A red cardinal standing on an abandoned tree stump, there was no snow on the ground but the muted greens and browns of the background truly made the bird pop, looking bigger than he really was, his striking beauty taking over everything in the picture.  He looked back at Mickey who was staring up at him with a nervous gaze. Ian nudged his shoulder reassuringly. “These are amazing.”

Mickey bowed his head but Ian was becoming a pro at Mickeyisms and he knew the brunette was definitely trying to hide a smile.

“No they really are Mickey. I had l no idea.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh, the redness that had formed at the base of his neck now to his ears and it warmed Ian’s heart. “Thanks man.”

Ian continued to browse the rest of the pictures. Mickey explained some to him while others needed no explanation; they all spoke for themselves. They were all Mickey.

“So how did you get into all of this?” Ian asked, scrolling through more shots.

Mickey toyed with his lower lip, something Ian was now becoming aware meant that he was thinking hard about something.  The light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly making Ian almost regret asking the question.

“I uh, well my mom, she…” Mickey stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Ian watched him as his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “My mom kind of got me into it.”

“That’s cool,” Ian replied, nodding understandingly. Clearly it was a conversation Mickey didn’t want to have today.

“Yeah,” continued Mickey, his shoulders dropping somewhat. “Then my bitch ass sister showed this chick I work with at the brewery my Instagram.Turns out her cousin was some kind of big shot photographer with tons of connections. I worked under him until I was able to do my own thing.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “You have an Instagram? Shit, you gonna tell me you have snapchat too?”

Mickey raised the back of his hand and smacked it playfully against Ian’s arm. “Fuck off. I don’t live in a fucking cave.”

Ian leaned back on his elbows, sniggering, “I bet you still have a MySpace.”

Mickey leaned into him now smiling coyly, their noses almost touching, “Fuck you, Red.” He whispered but his tone was anything but threatening.

“Gladly,” Ian teased with a grin, leaning in to close the distance but Mickey slyly lifted his head away from him.

“You fucking reek man,” Mickey said, his nose scrunched up mockingly. “Go take a shower or something damn.”

Ian quirked an eyebrow. “Join me?”

Mickey shook his head. If Ian believed in a god he would thank them for making someone so beautiful when they were being shy, or just in general.

Ian placed the camera on the edge of the bed and in one swift movement had Mickey pinned down below him. Ian leaned down so their foreheads were touching. “C’mon what can you possibly be doing for the rest of the day?”

Mickey tilted his head, breaking eye contact with Ian. “Oh I don’t know. I could watch the nature channel again, maybe go for a run. Eat the same shitty food we’ve been eating for the last few days. Stare out the window some more. I dunno man the possibilities are endless.”

Ian felt Mickey’s hips rise ever so slightly, his groin rubbing through Ian’s basketball shorts, his smile teasing.

Ian lowered his head even more their lips barely brushing together. “None of those possibilities involve me getting you out of these clothes.” He pressed his lips into Mickey’s putting his entire body weight onto him..

“I think,” Mickey sighed, coming up for air and tracing his tongue across Ian’s lower lip. “I think I can fit that in somewhere.” He grasped onto Ian’s hair pulling him back down, his tongue swiping Ian’s teeth demanding access inside,  Ian happily obliging.

They remained there for a few minutes, taking each other in and feeling each other’s bodies. They had been doing the exact thing every day this week, getting to know each other physically and every time Ian felt like he was learning something new about Mickey. Like the way he loved when Ian pulled his hair, his back arched and his ass high, and the noises, the fucking noises Mickey made was almost enough for Ian to come every time. He loved biting Ian too. Making his mark on Ian although they both decided to keep the marking to a minimum. Just in case anyone was to see.

He was about to pull Mickey off the bed and make their way into the shower, the only place they hadn’t christened yet in their swanky hotel room, when there was a sudden pounding at the door.

“Yo, guys you in there?”

Mickey froze from beneath him, Ian jumping off the bed and almost tripping over his own shoes as he walked to the door. He cautiously opened the door to find Theo standing there alone.

“Fuck man,” Ian huffed, running his hands through his hair. “We thought you might be-“

Theo laughed and shook his head at Ian’s distress. “Well you’re lucky it was just me. The crew is on their way to everyone’s rooms, emergency or something like that.”

“Shit,” Ian said. He looked over his shoulder, “Mick let’s go!”

Theo smirked. “Were you guys busy?”

“Don’t you have your mic on?” Ian hissed, knowing damn well the crew may be listening to their conversation.

Theo  shook his head no, “They will mic us when we go upstairs now c’mon.”

They made their way up to the penthouse where the crew was scrambling around telling the contestants to take their seats in the living room.

“What’s the emergency?” Kyle asked. “Did Archie over here not think he got enough screen time or something?”

“Hey you wanna say that again or do you want my foot up your ass?” snapped Mickey.

“I can look after myself Mick,” Ian muttered rolling his eyes. He was hoping he didn’t have to deal with Kyle’s antics too much longer.

“No, no everything is fine,” chimed in Olivia, looking down at her clipboard and then back up frantically. “We just need you guys all up here. Ian why is your hair a mess?” Her eyes searched the room until she found who she was looking for. “Tyla, can we have a comb over here?”

Ian sneaked a look at Mickey who was hiding his smile with his thumb.

“Here, fix your hair, not that I don’t love the I-just-woke-up look on you but we can’t have that for the cameras.”

Ian nodded, swallowing the nervous laugh that was bubbling in his throat. “Yeah no problem Liv.”

Ian, Mickey, and the rest of the contestants took their seats in the living area, the crew spreading out to take their own designated places. They sat in silence until a large crewman in a suit came out into the penthouse carrying two larger suitcases.

“Shit,” Dustin gasped.

“Someone’s going home,” Jerry muttered.

“No shit Sherlock,” Kyle replied with an eye roll.

“Hey! Quit being a dick to him,” Nick snapped wacking Kyle’s arm with the back of his hand.

Olivia walked back to the center of the living room. “Okay gentlemen,” She began. “I’m going to need you guys to chat amongst yourselves and just react naturally to what you see next. Yes, someone is going home and we’ll tell you who after we take the suitcases out.”

They began idly talking with each other, spitting bullshit that didn’t even matter to make it look “natural” or whatever. When the suited crew member returned to take the luggage everyone repeated their shock reactions. Ian had to hold in his cackle when he heard Mickey over dramatically exclaim “Holy shit!”

In spite of having to fake their shock for the camera, what happened next they were not expecting.

Chris Harrison came into the room, his usual smug expression on his face as he gazed around at all the contestants. There was a dramatic pause, or two, or six depending on how long one would consider how a single pause should be.

“Gentlemen…” Another long pause, “During the two on one date Aaron admitted something that was very traumatic for Drew to hear. We wanted you all to know just so you can be aware when you see Drew later.” Another long pause. “We all found out today that Aaron is married and has decided to leave the show to work on things with his husband.”

There were the expected guesses and curses. Ian is pretty positive he heard Kyle say “I knew it.” Ian snuck a glance at Mickey whose eyebrows were raised in shock. “Damn. Guy had some balls,” Mickey said shaking his head. He looked at Ian then up at Chris again but Ian didn’t miss the hint of mischief that was in Mickey’s eyes when their eyes met. Hey at least neither of them were married.

Harrison chimed in again, silencing the room once more. “Instead of a rose ceremony tonight, Drew has decided to pick up the pace on his journey and head to our next destination early. Men, pack your bags because we’re going to St.Lucia!

There were the usual cheers but Ian heart sank into his feet with dread.  This week… well this week had been amazing. Just Mickey, him and a private hotel room. But now it was being ripped away. There was no way in hell they would be placed alone in the same room again and it wasn’t like they could just ask to room together. It was unfair, so unfair and their alone time was ending too soon.

He didn’t look at Mickey right away but he could feel his stillness. He was thinking the same thing. Ian was sure of it. When he did look Ian’s way, Mickey was staring straight ahead, his jaw set. Ian swallowed hard trying to think of a way to make their last night in this chilly paradise memorable.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey was nervously biting his lower lip as he stared at his half-packed bag in the middle of the floor. He was having trouble making himself do anymore even though he knew they were leaving in just eight short hours.

Ian hadn’t made it back to the room after Chris' announcement. He’d hung back even though Mickey had left as fast as he possibly could, unable to meet Ian’s eyes as he brushed past him. It was just becoming too much in there, the room seemed to be closing in on him.

This week had been easy. This week gave them a break from the reality of the situation they were in and now they had to face it all over again. He wasn’t ready for it to be over.

The click of the keycard slot broke him out of his mulish thoughts. Ian entered the room with an impish grin, leaning against the wall, hiding something behind his back.

“Hey,” he greeted his voice filled with his usual cheesiness. Mickey could through his false cheer. Could see it wasn’t quite meeting his eyes.  

“Hey,” Mickey replied, rubbing his face with his hand as he looked back up at the redhead. “What you got there?”

Ian lifted his hand, showing him a fancy bottle filled with very expensive whiskey.

“And,” Ian added, digging into his back pockets with this other hand to present two packs of M&M's. “Got some of these!” He smiled proudly and walked towards a baffled Mickey, tossing the goods onto the bed. He rubbed his neck nervously as he looked down softly at Mickey. “Figured we could, I dunno, go out to the woods or something, hang out for a bit.”

Mickey smiled up at Ian, his heart warmed by the gesture despite the location suggestion sounding torturous. He had no desire to sit on the cold forest floor, no matter who he would be in company with. He looked around the room until an idea struck his mind. He grabbed the bottle and the candy and pointed at the spare bed.

“Grab the pillows and some blankets and follow me,” he ordered before adding, “And be quiet too.”

Ian did as he was told and started to gather up the covers off the bed. “Where are we going?” he asked stuffing the pillows into the make-shift sack he made out of the sheets.

“Just c'mon Red.”

They walked in silence until Mickey found what he was looking for; a door at the end of a dark corridor labeled “Roof Access.”   He had found the hidden door two days ago when he was exploring the hotel. He twisted at the knob.

“It’s locked,” Ian whispered.

Mickey rolled his eyes at him. “No shit.” He reached down into his jean pocket and pulled out his makeshift lock pick and began poking at the lock.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea Mick.”

“Who would be looking for us?” Mickey hissed shaking his head. “Besides,” he smiled to himself as he heard the satisfying click of the door unlocking, “how is this any less risky than going into the woods. At night. With like… animals and shit.”

Ian laughed, shoving Mickey gently through the now open doorway. They walked up three sets of stairs until they finally met another door that was unlocked. Mickey opened it and smiled back at a surprised Ian. It was a clear black night, the only lighting on the rooftop was the moon hanging above them in the dark star laden sky.

“Wow,” Ian breathed, looking around at their own private area. He looked over the ledge. “Holy fuck we’re high up.”

“Uh, yeah it’s the roof dumbass,” Mickey quipped, opening the bottle of booze and taking a swig, “Shit man this is pretty good!”

When Ian didn’t respond and continued to look over the edge Mickey decided he wasn’t going to let their potential fate loom over them. They were going to have one more night for themselves. “Hey,” he said, wrapping his index finger into the loophole at the back of Ian’s jeans and pulling him back against his chest. “No moping tonight, okay?”

He felt Ian's chest rise beneath his hand as he took a deep breath. “Yeah… yeah you’re right.”

Ian twisted around and took the bottle out of Mickey’s free hand and took a drink. He then leaned in and pressed his mouth to Mickey’s. His lips were smooth and wet, tasting like the alcohol he just consumed, and Mickey moaned at the delicious combination of whiskey and Ian. Mickey tilted his head to deepen the kiss when Ian broke away.

“Don’t want to move too fast, especially with this being our first date and all.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “I think we’re a little late on the whole taking it slow thing Red.”

Ian titled his head. “Maybe.” He unwrapped himself from Mickey’s embrace and began unfolding the blankets placing them down on the concrete floor. “C'mon,” Ian coaxed, patting the space next to him. “Sit.”

Mickey took this place next to Ian, propping his pillow against the brick wall and ripping open the bag of M&M’s, tossing one in the air and catching it effortlessly in his mouth.

He looked over at Ian and his heart did a flip at the way the redhead was looking at him.

“Open,” Mickey said, motioning at Ian’s mouth and grabbing another piece of candy. He leaned to his side a little so there was more distance between them and tossed it at Ian. The candy barely hit the corner of Ian’s mouth before bouncing off in the other direction.

“You’re suppose to catch it!”

“That was horrible aim!” Ian laughed, reaching over and taking a piece out of the bag.

“Bullshit you just can’t catch.”

“Mickey, you and I both know that I don’t do the catching around here,” Ian said with a flirtatious wink.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.” He opened his mouth wide as Ian tossed his piece in and he caught it again.

“See,” Mickey said swallowing the candy, “That’s how you do it.”

“I’m sorry we can’t all be as talented with our mouths as you are Mickey,” Ian chuckled.

“Hey it’s a gift you don’t seem to mind me having.”

Ian swiftly kissed Mickey and smiled against his lips, their eyes locked on each other. “Nope not all.”

Mickey sat back against the wall appreciating the darkness so Ian couldn’t quite see his flustered expression. “You got any hidden talents, Red?”

Ian tilted his head, considering before a thought came to him. “Oh!” he exclaimed. He stretched out his arm and then twisted it around almost a full 360 degrees.

“What the fuck?” Mickey blanched. “Get out of here with that alien shit!”

“Not double jointed Mick?” Ian asked while taking his thumb with his other hand and bending it backwards, causing Mickey to cringe.

“I’m flexible but I’m not a fucking freak,” Mickey laughed.

Ian tilted his head towards Mickey. “Again we both know you are misleadingly flexible Mickey.”

Mickey smiled at the dirty memory from earlier in the week when he had decided to show Ian how much he could bend his legs to get that perfect angle for Ian to fuck into him hard and deep. They passed the bottle back and forth chatting sporadically, both men just enjoying the company of one another during the lulls in conversation.

“At least it’s warm in St. Lucia,” Ian sighed, breaking the silence.

Mickey’s heart fell a little. He wanted to avoid it as much as he could, but they knew it was inevitable. They had to be on the bus to the airport in five hours.

“Yeah,” Mickey muttered. He felt Ian scoot closer to him, their shoulders and arms now pressing together.  “You think-“

“No.” Ian interrupted, his tone laced with finality. “I know things are going to work out. Even if we don’t have a lot of time alone together we still have each other. Right?”

Mickey played with his lips before speaking. “Right,” he replied hoping he sounded convincing enough. He was amazed at how convinced Ian was that this would work out when Mickey was torn between hoping by some type of miracle it would and waiting for the ball to drop. It already felt like the ball was creeping towards the ledge.

Mickey felt a hand on his chin, gently guiding his face back to look at Ian. “Hey, I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s just enjoy this.” He pressed his lips softly onto Mickey’s. “You and me okay? For tonight.”

It didn’t fix the heaviness that was weighing down on Mickey, but he felt good knowing Ian was still willing to try.

“C'mere,” Ian said, raising his arm up for Mickey to lean into him. “It’s cold.”

“You just want an excuse to cuddle,” Mickey chuckled even as he wrapped his arms around Ian’s midsection and leaned his head on the redhead’s chest.

“Admit it. You’re a cuddler Mick.”

Mickey squeezed tighter. “Nope. Hate it.” He smiled at the way Ian’s chest rumbled with laughter.

“You go on a lot of dates back home?”

“Not really. Dating has never really been my thing.”

Ian chuckled into Mickey’s hair, “Yet here you are.”

“I keep telling you man! My sister signed me up for the show. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I think you’re a secret romantic, Mickey,” Ian muttered, kissing the top of Mickey’s Ian’s head. “And you’re really flexible and enjoy cuddles.”

“Oh congrats Firecrotch,” Mickey bit back sarcastically, ignoring the way his whole body warmed up from Ian’s words. “You know me so well already.”

“I like to think I do.”

“What about you? You always been Mr. Bachelor, Red?”

“Yeah I’ve been on a few dates here and there. Dated a few others casually…” Ian paused, hesitating before continuing.  ”There was one guy that I dated for a while but he wasn’t one for commitment.”

“Fuck head cheat on you?”

Ian sighed deeply. “Yeah but whatever. Fuck him.”

“Didn’t deserve you,” Mickey muttered into Ian’s chest, hoping that Ian couldn’t hear him. He knew that wasn’t the case when Ian pressed another long kiss into Mickey’s hair.

“Yeah, I know someone who does though.”

“Okay, cheesecake.”

“Just saying…”

Mickey had enough of the sickening warm and fuzzy shit that was cascading over him but chose to show Ian what he really did deserve. He squirmed out of Ian’s arms, moving to straddle the redhead as he pulled him into a deep, slow kiss. He took his time, savoring the way Ian’s mouth tasted like delicious chocolate and strong whiskey. Their mouths moved together slowly filling each other up with warmth and comfort.

They took their time breaking apart, giving each other’s lips a few soft pecks before pulling apart the smallest bit, their warm breathes mingling in the cold night air. Mickey looked into Ian’s eyes, sparkling in the moonlight and he focused on the small speck of gold he’d found in Ian’s right eye the other day, feeling grounded by the sight.

“This has been,” Ian whispered, kissing Mickey’s lips again as his fingers traced his jaw, “by far the best first date ever.”

“Agreed,” Mickey replied simply, turning around off of Ian’s lap to resume his previous position next to him. He looked up at Ian, studying his upturned face as the redhead  gazed at the sky above them. Five years ago Mickey would have laughed at the suggestion that one day he'd be on the roof of a fancy hotel, fucking stargazing with a guy. But here he was, sitting next to a beautiful man he was fucking crazy about and he had never wanted to be anywhere else more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACHELORS REMAINING AS OF NOW 
> 
> Ian  
> Mickey  
> Kyle  
> Micheal K  
> Grant  
> Dustin  
> Theo  
> Jerry  
> Nick  
> Jack  
> Mike W
> 
> Quite a few men go home next week. Stay tuned :) Again thanks for reading comments and kudos always welcomed!!!


	9. Week Five (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii

They stayed there as long as they could, wrapped up in each other until the chill of the night became unbearable.

“We should go in,” Ian mumbled, brushing the top of Mickey’s head with his lips. “I still gotta pack and I’m freezing.”

“M’fine,” Mickey muttered. Ian’s heart did a flip as he felt the brunette’s arms hug him tighter but he could feel the slight tremor of Mickey’s body against his own.

 “You’re shivering Mick.”

“Am not,” Mickey snapped back, adjusting himself once more but Ian knew he was just trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.

Ian let out a breathy laugh and gently removed himself from Mickey’s embrace much to the man’s groans of protest.

“C’mon,” Ian said rising up onto his feet. He reached out his hand, Mickey taking it with his own to be pulled up. Ian took the chance to wrap his arms around Mickey one more time and they stood there holding onto each other. The cold didn’t seem so bad anymore and it made Ian want to stay just another minute or hour but they couldn’t.

It was a short walk to the door and Ian’s heart all but burst with happiness when Mickey intertwined their hands as Ian led them down the dark stairwell. When Ian let go of his hand to turn the knob of the doorhis heart sank right back down. He took a deep breath. Everything was going to be alright. Everything was going to be fine.

Mickey didn’t say anything while Ian packed, Ian sneaking a glance at him every once in a while. Mickey looked worn down and he wasn’t looking at Ian, his eyes focused on whatever dumb adult cartoon show was on the tv. He wasn’t even laughing at the parts that would have been considered funny.

“You can sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

Mickey shook his head still not quite looking at him. “Don’t feel like sleeping man.”

Ian had had enough. They’d had an amazing few hours together and he wasn’t about to let it get ruined. And he was most definitely not going to let Mickey think it was the end because it wasn’t even close.

He crossed the room in two long strides and pounced onto the bed Mickey was sprawled on, straddling Mickey’s waist and cupping his face with his hands.

“Hey, what happened to no moping?” Ian asked, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s going to be fine okay? I’m sure we’re gonna be living in a penthouse or whatever this time around since there’s less of us. It’s better than being completely separated… right?”

Mickey’s chest rose and fell from beneath him. “Right, it just… it fucking sucks.”

Ian nodded, “Yeah it does but there’s nothing we can do about it now. So let’s just go and ya know… put our best face forward or some shit.”

Mickey breathed out a laugh and Ian counted it as a win. Ian glanced at the clock on the bedside table and realized it wasn’t a good idea for Mickey to take a nap; they had to be at the front of the hotel in fifteen minutes.

“We gotta be down there soon, so let’s get our shit.” He tried his best to keep the dread in his chest from building up. He didn’t want Mickey to see he was upset too as it wouldn’t help either of them.

Ian bent down and kissed Mickey on the lips. He felt Mickey smile as he went in for a second one.. He pressed their foreheads together one more time Ian’s eyes melting into Mickey’s. There was no way he wasn’t going to try to make this work. It had to work out.

He slid off of Mickey and grabbed the rest of his belongs and shoved it into his second suit case, the first already full to the brim. Mickey heaved himself off of the bed and gathered his own things.

“Ready to fucking do this Red?” Mickey asked over his shoulder, a huff of annoyance in his voice that Ian knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Ian exhaled, _No._ “Yes.”

He watched Mickey walk to the door,  one suitcase in each hand, his duffle bag swung over his shoulder. Mickey got to the door and suddenly stopped, dropping his luggage with a thump. Before Ian could comprehend what Mickey was doing the brunette was already in front of him pulling him down and kissing him hard.  He felt Mickey grasp at his red hair as Ian slid his arms around Mickey’s waist.

“What was that for?” Ian asked after they broke apart.

“Not sure when we’ll be able to do that shit next,” Mickey said, smiling softly up at Ian. He raised his hand to cup Ian’s face, “Wanted to make it count.”

“Wow,” Ian huffed. “I’m really turning you into a sap huh?”

Mickey playfully shoved him, “Oh fuck off.”  He turned and began to grab his bags again. “Tired of your ass already.”

Ian gave Mickey’s impeccable ass a strong smack making the brunette jump a little. “That’s okay I’ll never be tired of yours.”

Ian smiled wide because he knew even with his back turned Mickey was rolling his eyes at him and most likely smiling. Fuck they haven’t even been properly separated yet and Ian was already missing Mickey even though he was just a few feet ahead of him. He stared longingly at the back of Mickey. His thin heather grey Henley hugging him nicely, his loose fitting jeans not doing any justice to his perfectly toned lower body… but it didn’t matter; Ian knew what was underneath.

He wanted to drop his bags, reach out, have Mickey drop his bags and make-out with him in the middle of the hallway. He wanted more time. He wanted to be back on that roof holding him and talking. But Mickey was right; That kiss they shared in the hotel would have to be enough for now.

They rode the elevator down in silence, stealing glances and smiling softly at each other, both itching to reach out. Ian could have sworn he saw Mickey’s hand grip harder around his duffle bag. It was just as hard for him..

“Whatever happens Red,” Mickey began his tone subdued but his expression determined as his eyes burned into Ian’s, “Just know I’m all in. I’m all in with you.”

Ian nodded and was about to break his resolve and tell Mickey the he was all in too, that he always had been, but elevator’s door chimed announcing their arrival to the lobby. Some of the guys had already made their way down and the elevators faced the front desk so Ian couldn’t react but he hoped that Mickey knew he felt the same.

“Yo,” Theo greeted lazily. “Y’all ready for a thirteen hour flight?”

“Fuck,” exasperated Mickey, running his hand over his face as he took his seat on the couch across from Theo. Ian sat next to Theo. He wanted to sit by Mickey but he knew that would be too much so sitting across from him was the next best thing. “Thirteen fucking hours huh?”

“Awe, what’s wrong Mick?” Kyle asked mockingly, “Never flew to another country before? I thought Drew liked his man a little bit more worldly.”

Ian bit his lip in annoyance. It was way too early, or technically too late since it was still pitch black outside, for Kyle’s bullshit. Also only he called Mickey ‘Mick’.

Thankfully Theo wasn’t in the mood for Kyle’s exhausting attempt to start up conflict either. “Dude, fuck off. The cameras aren’t even here there’s no need to be starting shit.”

“Nah it’s okay,” Mickey said, sneering back at Kyle. “Preppy over here is just mad he ran out of his fancy hair gel. Lookin a little rough there man.”

“Fuck you,” muttered Kyle, rubbing his hands through his unkempt hair. It was the first time Ian had ever seen him not so put together.

Ian flashed a winning smile at Mickey who grinned back in return. Out of the corner of his eye Ian could see Theo shake his head ever so slightly. If it was directed at Mickey’s comment or at the two of them smiling at each other like no one else was in the room Ian would never know.

The rest of the guys sprinkled in as everyone sat in silence, fighting sleep as they knew they had to be on the bus soon anyways. Jerry and Nick were the last to join, Nick not looking anywhere near his chipper self and Jerry just looking plain weird as usual. Ian would never say anything because it just wasn’t in his nature but he seriously wondered what exactly Drew (or anyone else for that matter) would see in Jerry.

The bus arrived at two A.M. and the contestants all gathered onto it. Ian spaced himself far enough so Mickey entered the bus first but as he was about to just go ahead and sit with Theo he felt someone pull on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Ian didn’t even need to look down to know who did it so he casually took his seat next to Mickey as he scooted against the window. Ian turned and quirked an eyebrow at him, Mickey shrugged but didn’t say anything, his face indicating he was about five seconds way from passing out.

“Hey.” Mickey said in a tone that Ian was sure was only reserved for him. Mickey leaned his head against the window his eyes not leaving Ian’s despite losing battle their battle to stay fully open.

“Go to sleep,” Ian muttered. He rested his head against the hard uncomfortable seat and closed his eyes. Sensing Mickey’s eyes still on him, Ian took his index finger and traced Mickey’s tatted knuckles, earning himself a content sigh from the weary brunette.

He wanted more. He wanted to rest his head on Mickey’s shoulder or vise versa since Mickey was at a more convenient height for that to be comfortable.  He wanted to be engulfed in Mickey. He hadn’t had enough yet and he wasn’t quite sure if he could possibly _ever_ get enough.

 

* * *

 

 

 Mickey decided he hated planes. This was his third time on one and it hadn’t gotten any easier. The take off, the turbulence, the stale recycled oxygen, and the overly happy-it’s-way-too-early-but-yay-we’re-going-on-vacation people just made everything about the metal flying machine unbearable. Even with being in first class and having a stiff drink in his hand. He had already received a worrisome look from the flight attendant when he asked for a jack & coke at six A.M but he didn’t care. He needed something to calm his nerves.  

He had been seated next to Theo and the man was now shooting him concerned looks. “You okay man?”

Mickey nodded, taking another sip of his beverage. “Just trying to get drunk enough so I can pass out for the rest of the flight.”

Theo laughed. Usually guys like Theo annoyed him with all their cheerful good nature but he was kind of grateful for the guy at the moment. He clearly knew about him and Ian and had been loyal about not telling anyone. As much as it was killing Mickey not to sit with Ian (the redhead was seated exactly two rows behind him with dimwitted Dustin), he was relieved to see he would be sharing his row with Theo. At least Theo was in he and Ian’s corner. And Mickey trusted Ian. If Ian said they could trust Theo Mickey believed him.

Theo stretched his arms over his head. “At least we’re going somewhere warm. Hate the cold, anything below sixty degrees is too cold for me.”

Mickey raised his eyebrow, “Where you from?”

“I was born in Orlando but I live in Destin now. Been a sun and water guy my whole life.”

Mickey shook his glass making the ice cubes twirl around the perimeter before taking another swig. “Never been to the beach.”

“You’re gonna love it man. It’s gonna be beautiful down there in October.” Theo leaned in closer so only Mickey could hear him, “Make sure your man wears sun block. That white boy is gonna burn like a mother fucker.” His eyes trailed quickly up and down Mickey’s arms, “You too.”

Mickey chuckled. He wasn’t going to admit how excited he was to be going somewhere new, somewhere warm and tropical and he was most definitely not gonna remind Theo how good Ian looked shirtless when he already had Drew ogling at him every second he could. He didn’t need anyone else to be looking at his red haired Adonis. Mickey glanced sidelong at Theo. He knew Ian said they could trust him, but Mickey was always skeptical, always had his guard up. One would have to living the way he did growing up.

“Why are you doing this?” Mickey asked, his voice low. He looked around; everyone else seemed to be asleep. He wished he could see Ian but Michael K’s fat snoring head was taking up all the space behind him. “I mean, like why you haven’t told anyone…” He pointed to himself then jerked his head back toward where Ian was sitting.

Theo shrugged. “Y’all can’t help who you fall for. Shit the producers are fucking dumb if they think they can put thirty gay men in one place and they’ll all only chase after one guy. There’s no way.”

Mickey nodded and tilted his head, considering. “Anyone here you wanna bang?”

“I’d say Ian but I also don’t have a death wish,” Theo said with a wink, cackling at Mickey’s lethal expression. “Nah, I mean MK is good looking but I’m here for Drew. You and Ian are just making it easier for me to win this thing.”

“Yeah well you’re welcome,” Mickey said, finishing off his drink. He looked over to try to find an attendant but the bitches were all probably passed out too. He wishes he could see Ian. Spending practically a whole week with each other just wasn’t enough, not when the inevitable was coming. Fewer bachelors meant more eyes on them, more cameras, and more people that can possibly figure out the subtle looks they give each other.

Theo was right. The producers were pretty dumb to orchestrate this whole thing. He glanced up, the “seatbelt on” sign was still lit and he had to take a piss. He also really needed a smoke and most of all he just wanted another glimpse of Ian. He knew he was there. He knew Ian was fine. He had just ignored the ticking clock all week so when the voice in his head said “times up” it was a sharp stab to the heart.

He meant what he said though. He was all in with Ian, even though something inside kept gnawing at him, telling him things wouldn’t end well. Mickey was a man of his word; he would fight for Ian and he knew Ian would do the same.

They just had to figure out how without facing any consequences.

He placed his drink on the food tray and titled his head back against the head rest, his strained eyes feeling relieved as he closed them.

“So why did you come on to the show?”

Mickey’s eyes snapped open. Was this guy fucking joking? He gave a haughty exhale to show his annoyance but Theo didn’t seem fazed.

“What do you mean?”Mickey asked gruffly, kicking himself for even asking a follow up question. Michael K had finally stopped snoring and the seat he was in was becoming more and more comfortable by the second due to his lack of sleep.

“Well, I’m just saying. You don’t seem like the type to ever come on this show.”

Mickey shook his head because the guy wasn’t wrong but also fuck him. He didn’t know Mickey. “My sister initially signed me up.”

“And you just went with it?” Theo asked, not entirely convinced by Mickey’s claim.

“Yeah, well,” Mickey shrugged, as he sat back up in his seat. He had a feeling he wasn’t about to get any type of sleep on this damn plane with chatty Kathy over here. “She thought I wasn’t happy or whatever, I don’t know.”

Theo chuckled, “Sisters man, can’t live with em, sure as fuck can’t live without them. My twin is annoying as hell but I’d do anything for her, I mean she’s family ya know? It’s always been just my mom, my sister and me.”

Mickey nodded, his sister was the most annoying person on the planet but there was no doubt he would do anything for her. Ever since their mom died it had been just the two of them against the world and as cheesy as it fucking sounds he had a lot of things in his life that he had her to thank for. That includes getting out of the south side and starting his career.

“Yeah,” agreed Mickey, he found himself smiling, probably because he was on the verge of being delirious or the guy seemed trustworthy now so one of his walls slowly cascaded. “I’d do anything for that bitch too.”

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived at JFK airport for a two hour lay away. By the time they arrived everyone looked like they had just awoken from the dead. Ian had a massive headache that he knew only a good night’s sleep would fix but he wouldn’t be able to have it for several more hours. Maybe not even for the next day or so.

They were corralled by the crew members or more like their chaperones and were told they were getting breakfast for everyone. Ian found Mickey instantly and walked towards him. He had bags under his eyes and his hand was twitching slightly. He needed a cigarette.

“Hey,” Ian greeted the drained brunette.

“Hey.”

“Sleep at all?”

Mickey sniffed, shaking his head. “The fuck you think?”

Ian smiled and bumped his shoulder with Mickey’s. “You might feel better when you eat something. None of us have eaten in…shit how long has it been?

“Those M&M’s we had didn’t fucking last long.” Mickey shrugged, running his thumb across his lip, “They better not skimp out on us. I could eat about ten Mc Griddles right now.”

They waited in silence at a table by the food court along with the rest of the guys and quickly swallowed down the breakfast sandwiches and deliciously sweet ice coffees they were provided. 

“Fucking turbulence,” Mickey said in between bites of his second sandwich. “An  now we gotta wait two more fucking hours for the next plane? Bull shit.”

Ian leaned back against the metal chair doing his best to crack his tight back. He sighed in relief as he felt three cracks pop up his spine. “Well now it’s more like an hour and a half.”

“Not helping Red.”

Ian grinned and took a sip of Mickey’s coffee. The brunette didn’t seem to mind as he drained the rest of the sickingly sweet substance.

“How much sugar do you put in that shit?”

Mickey shrugged as he smirked at Ian’s grossed out expression. “Gotta have sugar to keep me so sweet huh?”

“Oh god, I think you’re delirious from lack of sleep Mick,” Ian said rolling his eyes. He stared at the brunette as he crumpled up the wrapper of his sausage Mcbiscuit. Mickey’s hair was all kinds of disheveled, sticking up every which way and making Ian itch to run his fingers through the dark strands.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one staring. It took him only a moment to see Mickey’s eyes staring back at him. A glint of hunger shined in them that warmed Ian’s core. He scooted his foot towards Mickey and lightly rubbed his shoe against the other man’s. Mickey’s eyes turned to scout their surroundings; everyone was either still eating or too tired to even keep their eyes open. He pushed his leg closer, a warm sensation flowing up it and then all around his body at the simple touch. Ian pulled back and adjusted something under the table. Soon Mickey felt Ian’s socked foot rub against the inside of his leg. The younger man’s eyes had bags under them but there was no weariness in them, just something else that sent a jolt through Mickey. He bit down on his lower lip to suppress the corners of his mouth from moving up. He grabbed his drink and took a sip of the sweet substance as he stared directly into the other man’s eyes. Mickey took his tongue and slowly twirled it around the tip of the straw than took as much as he could in all while not breaking eye contact with Ian. His mouth turned into a smirk, so tempting and delicious Mickey had to unwillingly stop himself from leaning over the table and kissing the look off his face, stopping himself from showing Ian what exactly his tongue could do to something much bigger.

He felt a hand on his knee from under the table, a gentle squeeze and the now burning longing in Ian’s eyes was all it took for Mickey to make his next move.

 Mickey lowered his head but spoke loud enough so the redhead could hear him loud and clear.  

“When I get up count to ten then follow me to the bathroom. Do not go into the stall until the coast is clear got it?”

Ian nodded eagerly watching the brunette get up slowly to throw away his trash. He glanced one more time back at Ian before walking in the direction of the restrooms. As much as Ian wanted to count as quickly as possible he took his time and waited until it was a reasonably safe distance to follow Mickey.

He walked into the bathroom and noticed a short Asian man washing his hands. He smiled politely at the guy and walked passed. At the far end was the handicap stall with its door closed. Ian waited until he heard the man leave and gave the stall door a sharp tap to wish Mickey tapped back from the other side.

Ian had barely touched the door before he was being pulled into the stall and slammed against the tiled wall. Mickey’s warm lips covering his with haste and need, stealing all the air out of the redhead’s lungs. Ian’s one hand found Mickey’s ass while the other pulled on his ebony locks. It had only been hours since they kissed like this last but Ian missed it. Fuck he missed it, Mickey’s body up against his, pulling and sucking on his bottom lip with his teeth, his tatted hands clinging onto the fabric of Ian’s hoodie. Ian could never get bored with this. Could never get bored with the way Mickey made him feel.

“Goddamn Red,” Mickey whispered against Ian’s lips, his breath hot. He looked up through his thick long eyelashes the twinkle in his eyes still famished. “How the fuck does anyone look this hot after staying forever on a fucking plane.”  

“Goddamn yourself, Mick,” Ian moaned into the kiss, swiping the lone strand of Mickey’s hair off his forehead with his thumb. “I think someone missed me.”

“Fuck off,” replied Mickey, locking their lips once more. He pressed his crotch up against Ian and Ian let out a low moan as he felt Mickey’s hardness against his own growing erection. The shorter man’s hands skimmed the hemline of Ian’s sweatpants, slowly inching further and further down until Ian felt Mickey’s hands grope his ass. He leaned his head back more on the wall giving Mickey full access to his neck as the brunette placed wet kisses up and down.

“Be careful not to mark,” Ian warned, cupping Mickey’s face. “Don’t think  I’ll be able to explain how I got a hickey while in the bathroom of an airport.”

“That’s alright; I can find other ways to leave a mark,” Mickey smiled. Then Ian felt his warm hand palm at his balls leaving Ian so breathless he didn’t have time to react when Mickey pulled his sweatpants down to his ankles and got to work on Ian’s cock, stroking it rough and hard until Mickey fell onto his knees and took the tip into his mouth, teasing it with his beautiful mouth.

And fuck it was a sight to see. Mickey had given him plenty of head in the last week and they may no longer be in a luxurious hotel but if there was anything Mickey knew how to do it was to take cock and suck cock and Ian was more than ready to reap one of the many benefits of Mickey.

Mickey began taking in his shaft searing the sensitive flesh with his wet tongue. Ian slammed his mouth shut and looked up at the ceiling, suppressing a moan he so badly wanted to release.   He gripped onto Mickey’s hair pushing him in, seeing just how much the brunette could take.

He heard a sudden pop and a rush of cold air as Mickey freed his cock. Ian let out a needy mewl from the back of his throat but no longer protested once he looked down and saw Mickey unbuttoning his own pants. Sliding them down along with his boxers and exposing his red hard member. He flaming blue eyes stared back at Ian’s green, full of sensual mischief as he took in Ian once more while rubbing his own frantically. It wasn’t long until the pull in Ian’s lower body tightened until he couldn’t take anymore and released into Mickey’s mouth.  The brunette let out a lustful moan as he swallowed the contents of Ian’s seed and yanked at himself even harder until his own was spilling onto his hands. The brunette’s face was flushed and no doubt matched Ian’s as he shot up and connected their mouths once more.

Ian pulled Mickey into his chest, kissing the brunette’s neck softly, “Feel better?” he asked, his own voice shaky and breathless from post orgasm bliss.

“Yeah,” Mickey responded into Ian’s shirt. Ian felt him take a deep breath before looking back up at Ian. “Needed that.”

“Me too,” whispered Ian as he kissed Mickey again, softer this time.

Mickey swallowed and pushed back from Ian, rubbing his neck. “Probably should get back before one of the fucking sheepdogs realize two of their fucking cattle are missing.”

Ian let a needy whine escape as he pulled Mickey closer again, “Or we could-“

The sound of the restroom door opening caused them to freeze in place. Staring at each other with wide eyes until Mickey finally tilted his head towards the stall door, lifting a finger at Ian signaling him to wait. Mickey reached over and pushed the handle on the toilet and quickly pulled up his pants before nonchalantly walking out of the stall door. Ian was still tight up against the wall out of sight.  He remained still until he heard the other man finish his own business and went to the sink to wash his hands. Ian walked casually out of the stall and washed his own hands smiling maybe a little too wide at the confused business man.

“Great day to fly huh?” Ian asked.

The stocky businessman nodded, clearly not in the mood for casual small talk but Ian could care less. He left the bathroom smiling his head high up in the clouds.

 

* * *

 

 

They got a little lucky on the next flight. They were right by each other but on the opposite aisle seats of the plane. About a good three feet lie in between them. Mickey wasn’t that lucky however, he was stuck with Grant, who was a mouth breather, and Kyle, who demanded the window seat as soon as they boarded while Ian had the luxury of sitting with Theo and Nick. The take off was a lot smoother than the take off in Colorado. Way less bumpy but it still didn’t stop Mickey from squeezing his eyes shut and clamping onto the arm rest. He pretended to not hear Kyle mutter “pussy” for the sake of Kyle himself.

What made it better was opening his eyes and looking to his left where Ian was watching him full of concern. He wasn’t going to ever admit it but he never felt calmer when Ian looking out for him.

Even though exhaustion had cascade down on all the contestants by the time they arrived to the beautiful island, their breaths were still taken away from the massive paradise that was the resort in front of them.

The resort was surrounded by lush forest. Giant trees with exotic flowers hanging from their branches greeted them as their bus pulled up on the lavish driveway. It was late afternoon so the sun was high and the heat was sweltering. It didn’t help that the bay was on the complete other side of the resort so no breeze was coming through.

The remaining thirteen men got assigned to two pent houses right next to each other. Thankfully, Mickey and Ian were assigned to the same pent house, even though they still had to share a room with Michael K. and Dustin. Ian looked over at Mickey as their chaperone finished her spiel he didn’t do anything but shrugged at the redhead, at least they were in the same room together. 

The penthouse was large and spacious, overlooking the bay area where the water was a deep cerulean. Tiled floors flowed throughout the space, with a living space in the middle along with a full blown kitchen, the bedrooms off to the side.

“You think they have cameras in here?” Dustin asked, throwing a bag onto one of the four twin beds that occupied the room. Mickey was quick enough to claim the third bed and made a gesture to Ian to take the one on his right on the opposite side of the room. They may not be able to be right next to each other but at least it was something.

“Oh for sure. They had them in the penthouse in Colorado, no doubt they’re everywhere around here,” Michael K said as he fell onto the bed. He was larger than Ian and looked ridiculous lying on the twin bed his feet all but hanging off. “Fuck I’m tired. Are we allowed to sleep before the ceremony?”

Ian shrugged, “I guess so. Might as well, it’s not for another couple of hours.”

Ian snuck a glance at Mickey who was biting down on his lower lip. His eyes met Ian’s as they came to a silent understanding that they had to be extra careful; no risk taking whatsoever.

Michael K was already emitting light snores and Dustin had made his way out of the room leaving his unopened suitcase in the middle of the hallway just outside of their room. Ian sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes. He was fucking tired and his body was sore from sitting in the same position for so long. Sleep sounded wonderful. He looked over to see Mickey had already had the same idea. He was lying in his usual position, on his stomach, nose snuggled into the pillow with his eyes open and looking lazily at Ian. He looked adorable and Ian already hated that he couldn’t reach out and brush his soft hair back. He sighed wistfully and placed his own back onto the mattress, turning his entire body so he was facing Mickey. It reminded him of the mansion back in Calabasas and how he could never fall asleep without stealing several glances at Mickey first.

“The bed comfy?” Ian asked.

Mickey shook his head, “Go the fuck to sleep Red.” But there was no real threat behind it. He flashed Ian a tired grin before closing his own eyes, snuggling deeper into the pillow, turning Ian’s heart into mush.

 

* * *

 

 

They were expected to be on the yacht so they could set sail just before sunset. The water of the marina was shining with streaks purples, blues and gold’s from the quickly setting sun, fairy lights strung above them cascading everything with a soft dreamy glow.

The person that looked the best by far was Ian. Which to Mickey was nothing new. The redhead looked like a fucking Disney prince in his charcoal grey suit with a skinny light blue tie. His swept back hair looked unbelievable against the pink and yellow sky making Mickey’s tatted fingers twitch with the need to reach out and touch it, especially the small wisp of hair that always seemed to get out of place and land on his forehead. 

It had only been eight hours since they’d last touched each other and  the word ‘torturous’ didn’t begin to cover the way this situation made him feel. Mickey knew he had to find a way to get Ian alone by the end of the night even for just a moment. If he didn’t he was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust.

He took a sip of his whiskey and stared down Ian until the redhead finally looked away from whatever the fuck Nick was jabbering on about. The smile he gave Mickey melted him like fucking hot butter, comforting him in a way he didn’t know he needed. Ian did that for him. Always gave him these feelings he never knew he wanted or needed until then. Within just a few short weeks the dude was able to pull him in, warm his insides and break every wall he so carefully built over his lifetime.

It was funny how he had gone onto a show about finding love with no real intention to find love. Hell he didn’t even think he would make it through the first night yet  here he was four weeks later and fucking falling hard for someone.

It was the wrong someone but nonetheless it never felt more right.

Mickey laughed at himself; leave it to the jolly red giant to turn him into some poetic prick.

“What’s so funny?”

Mickey looked up not realizing Ian was right in front of him an amused look on his face.

“Nothing,” Mickey replied, not being able to help himself as he grinned big at Ian. “Just thought of something funny.”

Ian titled his head, looking confused and adorable to where all Mickey wanted to do was reach up and kiss him.

Fuck, his brain was foggy. He was given a rather large glass of his favorite amber liquid and by the looks of amount in his glass it was definitely a double shot. That or missing Ian had officially gotten into his head.

Both. It was definitely both.

Mickey bit down on his lower lip keeping what he really wanted to say to Ian at bay, they both had their mics on after all.

“Tell me later?” A playful smirk spread across Ian’s face not helping Mickey’s quickly fading resolve.

“Maybe,” Mickey replied, mirroring Ian’s smirk.

Ian shook his head while something else caught his attention; Kyle, Dustin, and Grant came walking down the ramp.

“Guys it’s gonna be awhile until Drew comes out.” Kyle announced with his usual douche baggy grin.

“Yeah? And why’s that Abercrombie?” asked Mickey as he wondered what it would take to have at least this guy go home.

“They finally finished taking his damn shower shots,” Grant explained. “Dude probably took a shower three times trying to get all the right angles and stuff.” He wiggled his eye brows while he said the last part.

“What the fuck?” Mickey scoffed. “The fuck does he have to take so many showers?”

“All the lonely divorcees have to have something to look at during the show.  They live for all the shower shots the Bachelor does. It’s even part of the official drinking game.”

“And why are you complaining Mickey? Jealous that you didn’t get to see it?” Kyle sneered.

Mickey rolled his eyes, fuck he really hated this guy. He knew exactly what to say back and while he knew it would hurt Ian, he also knew Ian understood they had a game to play. “Nah man, I’m sure I’ll get to see plenty of Drew soon.” He finished with a wink and glanced quickly at Ian whose face was outwardly neutral but Mickey could see the slightest hint of sadness in the taller man’s eye. Mickey allowed himself to focus on the blue speck that Ian’s sky colored tie brought out before looking away, willing himself not to get pulled in by the redhead. He couldn’t risk standing too close to him even though he so desperately wanted to.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Kyle asked, breaking Mickey out of his thoughts.

“It means, Ken that I don’t plan on sitting with my dick in my hand like you are.”

“Mickey,” Ian warned but Mickey ignored him, too amused by Kyle’s easily cracked expression.

“Whatever,” Kyle scoffed, his voice laced with insecure rich boy that Mickey knew all too well. “I don’t even know what Drew sees in a thug like you.”

The comment made Mickey laugh. “Like I haven’t heard that one before. Do I need to remind you who got the first impression rose? Or is the chemical from the hair gel you use melting your brain?”

He felt a pump of adrenaline rush through him as Kyle took a step forward. He was itching for a fight to take his frustration out on anything and the scrunched up face of Kyle would have been the perfect target if it wasn’t for Theo and Michael K butting in.

“Hey guys break it up,” Michael K ordered stepping in. It was only then that Mickey noticed that cameras surrounding them. Figures. Kyle only ever had the balls to say anything when the crew was around.

“But he started it!” Kyle shouted pointing accusingly at Mickey.

“Seriously?” Mickey scoffed rolling his eyes. “That’s your comeback? Did your ‘Insults for Dumbasses' only go to the 5th grade reading level?”

He didn’t stick around long enough to hear Kyle whine into the cameras. He gulped down the rest of his drink and made it to the side of the railing. The waves lapping on the side of the boat put him at ease while he stared at the deep blue bay before him.

“Hey Mickey,” Olivia asked interrupting his thoughts. “Can we get a few words from you?”

Mickey sighed an aggravated groan; he was just getting to the good part of thinking about how amazing it would feel to have Ian bend him over this railing, his thrusts matching with the sound of the waves...”

“Can I get another drink first?” Mickey asked, shaking his empty glass.

“Oh!” gasped Olivia, “Of course!” She snapped her fingers at some poor chick dressed in a server’s costume who hurriedly rushed to the bar. A few moments later the chick came back with his new drink. He took another sip and continued to stare out at the ocean.

“Uh Mickey?” Olivia asked quietly, “The interview.”

Mickey rolled his eyes hoping the blonde knat would just magically go away if he willed it. “Right. Okay. Make it quick Blondie.”

Olivia laughed that laugh she did when Mickey knew she was nervous. “Can you tell us what it’s like for you to be in such a beautiful place? I mean this place is like pure paradise. Isn’t it?”

Mickey took another sip of his drink, the booze was definitely going to his head; he was beginning to feel lightheaded, airy. He looked around the deck and spotted Ian, the man giving him a swift wink before turning back to talking to one of the handlers. No doubt Ian was having to spew his own bull shit, but of course the ginger giant was turning him soft and he couldn’t quite believe what came out of his mouth next.

“Paradise means fucking nothing…when you don’t get to spend it with someone you lo-… care about or some shit.”

The look on Olivia’s face was priceless; this bitch easily fell for anything even though Mickey was telling the truth.

“That was great Mick,” Olivia gushed. “Can we get that again without all the cussing?”

“Sure,” Mickey huffed reluctantly repeating what he’d just said but keeping it PG like she wanted.

“Can I go now?” he asked, glancing down at his empty drink. “And maybe get another one?”

“Sure thing,” Olivia answered happily and gestured towards her assistant to get him another drink before turning to go find her next victim. Mickey took it as his chance to get back over to Ian who seemed to be waiting on him.

“Isn’t that Jerry’s shirt Nick?” He heard Ian ask. Mickey looked over at the pair. He never paid much attention to the other contestants and most definitely did not give two fucks about what they wore but he did remember Jerry wearing that god awful maroon jacket at one point and now the exact same jacket was on Nick. They were the same height but Jerry was lankier making the jacket a bit more form fitting for Nick.

“Oh yeah,” Nick said, rubbing his neck. “He let me borrow it because-“

“The producers wanted Nick to wear red, brings out his green eyes,” finished Jerry, smiling like a damn cartoon character.

“Right. What he said,” nodded Nick, almost too quickly.

“Um, we should probably go,” Jerry said, nudging Nick's shoulder and looking at both Ian and Mickey anxiously. “I think Drew is about to come out.”

The two men rushed passed Ian and Mickey leaving them alone for the first time in hours.

 “Surprised Jerry let him wear that,” Ian said, bewildered.

“Probably doesn’t want it back now what with all the germs on it,” l Mickey laughed, shaking his head. He looked back up at Ian who was staring at him warmly. Mickey had to look away but doubted that Ian missed the blush rising up his neck.

“Hey you,” Ian said, nudging Mickey softly with his shoulder. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah” replied Mickey, looking down at his drink and shaking the glass. “Pretty sure this is the strongest shit I’ve ever had and that’s saying something.”

“You think we’re gonna be okay?” Ian said, finally getting to the real reason he asked. Mickey was starting to understand that Ian would much rather worry about others than ever put himself first.

“Sure Red,” Mickey assured him, finishing up his drink and nudging his shoulder back, enjoying the way his body sparked by just a simple touch. “We don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Can I have all the contestants to the front of the boat please?” Olivia yelled through her megaphone.

Mickey gave Ian a smile while putting on his best well rehearsed excited façade. “Lets go take several shots of us yelling at Drew while he makes his entrance!”

Ian couldn't help but to throw back his head and laugh as they made their way to the front of the boat.

 

* * *

 

 

As quickly as the cocktail party began it ended.. Drew didn’t seem to be in the best spirits due to Aaron admitting to being married and leaving. He told all the guys he had trust issues to begin with so he was already on edge with things. Michael K and Theo were the first to go comfort Drew and the two of them spent the most of the time with him throughout the night. Until Kyle decided to interrupt each of them multiple times resulting in the usually soft spoken Michael K cussing him out and Drew had had enough with dealing with them. At least Ian thought.

Despite Kyle being a complete asshole the entire night, he still managed to earn a rose for the week. Mickey and Ian had both received roses along with the rest of the guys they came to know well on the show. Mike W, who Mickey swears he’d never heard a peep out of and Jack another quiet one who’d never gotten much of Drew's attention went home, leaving eleven bachelors still in the running.

The men were sent back to their rooms immediately. Ian was walking down the dimly lit path following the group until he felt a small tug on the back of his jacket. He turned around to see the familiar dark figure walking away from the path through the well manicured landscaping. A playful smile erupted on his face, heart beginning to thud harder against his ribcage. It was the most excited he felt since earlier this morning. The most alive he’d felt and only one person had the ability to do that to him.

He followed Mickey to an unlit gazebo, amused by the fact that the scene seemed similar but everything between them was so different.

Mickey turned and leaned up against the wooden post, his “come-and-get-me” smirk so evident on his face that it sent Ian’s heart into a frenzy; finally a moment alone.

“I guess this type of place is kinda becoming our spot, eh Red?”

But Ian didn’t respond. He needed to touch Mickey and he needed to do it now. He caged Mickey in with his arms. The brunette leaned against the wooden wall, his tired eyes and plump lips never looking more inviting as they did now. He leaned down to press his lips to Mickey’s. Smooth and delicious, the shorter man's mouth opened slightly allowing Ian’s tongue access as it brushed across Mickey’s. It was becoming muscle memory at this point. The taste, the scent, and the touch of Mickey melted Ian as it filled him up as well. He felt Mickey’s arms pull him close, their chests touching and their heartbeats synchronizing. It had only been eleven hours but it felt like more. So much more. Mickey across the aisle from him on the plane, Mickey only feet away from him on a different bed picking out what he was going to wear that night and Mickey looking as good as ever in his standard black and white suit. It was a damn crime to be that close to him and not to be able to do anything about it.

“I missed you.” Ian whispered into Mickey’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of spearmint and whiskey.

“You gotta quit with that sappy shit man,” begged Mickey, nipping at Ian’s earlobe and chuckling, sending a shiver down Ian’s spine. Mickey was drunk but the fun flirty drunk that Ian found irresistible.

“I just say it how it is Mick,” Ian replied, pecking Mickey's lips, once, twice, three times.

Mickey leaned his head back against the wall, reaching up and ruffling Ian’s hair, “You’re something else man.”

Ian grinned wickedly and slid his hands down to Mickey’s ass, the brunette jumped as Ian gave the round flesh a squeeze.

“This ass is something else.”

“Oh my god,” Mickey laughed, pushing his ass more into Ian’s hands where they remained.

Mickey looked back towards him. Even in the dark Ian could see the shorter man’s eyes go from mischievous to soft. Mickey’s thumb traced his jaw line as the brunette swallowed.

“Missed ya.”

Ian smiled, his heart flooding with adoration for the man. He pressed his forehead against Mickey’s. The breeze off of the marina was refreshing as it blew through their hair. Ian wished they could stay like this a little while longer, a few more minutes, maybe an hour, but Ian knew that even a whole day wouldn’t suffice. They just had to make do with what they got.

Ian sighed, “They’re gonna figure out we are gone.”

Mickey huffed, resting his head on Ian's shoulder. “They can go fuck themselves. Would they really say anything if we fell asleep out here?”

Ian laughed, his chest rumbling against Mickey's. “I don’t think we would be able to explain that.”

“Sure fucking can,” assured Mickey. “They drag us on long bumpy ass plane rides, feed us fucking small sandwiches then expect us to drink our bodyweight in booze, we’re all fucking exhausted.”

Ian shook his head at Mickey’s adorable rant and kissed his hair. “C'mon let’s get you to bed.”

“Probably no fuckin use,” Mickey griped, allowing Ian to pull him off of the steps but letting go of Ian’s hand once they reached the bottom step. “Bed is fucking hard as a rock. Not like the one in Colorado.”

“Yeah,” Ian breathed wistfully of the memory of the softest mattress in the world and the body that accompanied him in it. “I’ll always miss that bed.”

They walked in silence until they reached the entrance of the penthouse. They couldn’t hear any voices so they both assumed that the guys were most likely asleep.

Mickey reached for the door handle but Ian grabbed his hand then his other before turning Mickey around to face him.

Ian then took Mickey’s face into his hands. “You know what you said this morning? About how you were all in?” He felt Mickey’s chin softly move up and down as he continued, “I am too. All in that is. I think you already knew that though.”

He could feel the smile on Mickey’s lips as he pressed into him. Their kiss lingered for a moment until one of them; Ian wasn’t sure which, decided to break apart. Mickey's eyes were pink with exhaustion and his hair was askew but he had never looked more perfect to Ian.

“Yeah Red,” Mickey replied, his voice low and soft. He reached up and pinched Ian’s cheek before slapping it playfully, “I know.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Ian?” Someone was asking for him but he didn’t respond, instead he focused on the clear pool water. “Yo Ian!”

He tore his eyes away from the water and faced Nick who was looking at him with concern. “You okay man?”

They were sitting in a shaded area of the second pool.. It was a small lounging area with plush chairs with coved wicker backs that one could lean into and get away from the hot tropical sun. In the middle a stone fire pit with sparkling blue crystals stayed unlit but the small rocks reflected the sun’s brilliant rays.

“Yeah,” replied Ian, “keeping his facial expression stoic. “I’m fine.”

“It’s just that you’ve been staring into the distance for like five minutes.” Nick observed. “If you wanna go in just go in, who gives a fuck if Kyle’s in there.”

Ian shook his head, “It’s not Kyle.”

 Kyle, Dustin and Grant were all on floats basking in the sun, the water had been tempting earlier after his run. He jumped in for a quick second letting the wonderfully cool water wash away at his sweat laden skin. Like his run, he tried to go with the motions. Attempted to let his mind focus on what he was doing but it was no use.

Everything around him was blue and everything blue reminded him of Mickey.

“Then what is it?” Theo asked. He was sitting across from Nick and Jerry, the latter dressed in a freaking long sleeve shirt and pants. Something about ruining his precious porcelain skin or whatever. Ian had stopped listening a long time ago.

Ian raised his eyebrows at Theo for asking such an absurd question. The other man smiled wide at him, knowingly.

 _Well good fucking thing someone else is enjoying this_. Ian thought.

Ian sighed, “Just didn’t get much sleep last night. Anyone else think those beds fucking suck?”

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the three men before they continued their conversation but Ian couldn’t care less. He got up from the lounger ignoring Theo's concerned glance as he muttered something about getting some water.

He rolled his shoulders as he walked. They were beginning to sting and the color on them was starting to match his hair but he didn’t care. Nothing else seemed to matter right now.

Mickey was asked on another one on one date with Drew this morning.

He shouldn’t be worried, he should be fine, but he was also fucking human. He wasn’t going to sit there and lie and say the fake smile (yes he knew the glowing smile Mickey had put on his face as Michael K read out loud the date card was fake) hadn’t hurt. He wanted to be the only one to put that smile onto Mickey’s face.

_Mickey come sail away with me._

Ian didn’t care that he rolled his eyes and shook his head all irritated. It would have been shown on camera as him being jealous Mickey got a one on one anyway. Date cards were always cheesy but this one was on a whole other level.

Mickey hated corny shit. Drew should know better. Oh wait, he didn’t. He didn’t know Mickey at all.

Ian knew he was being bitter. He had been since the date card had been read out loud. His chest tightened when after Mickey was done smiling and putting on his overly exaggerated show for the cameras he looked straight at Ian, his face went neutral and he gave Ian a curt nod.

He had watched Mickey get ready in silence this morning, looking fucking good in just a simple pair of khaki cargo shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Any guy would be lucky to take him on the date he would be going on and Ian wished he could be that guy.

Mickey kept shooting him looks that morning. Looks that seem to say “Its fine”, “Wipe that worried look off your face, and “It’s all a part of the game, Red.”

At least Ian is sure that he meant those things. Mickey couldn’t actually say any of that to him because Dustin wouldn’t leave the damn room and they couldn’t just tell the blonde brick to leave so silent goodbyes would have to do. Ian smiled the best he could at Mickey as Mickey gave him a long meaningful look before waving goodbye. Of course he wouldn’t be Mickey if he hadn’t flicked Dustin off on the way out the door.

So here Ian was. Missing his… what exactly? Boyfriend? They hadn’t really given each other labels and they really couldn’t until this shit show was over.

He crossed his arms on the railing and rested his head on them. As usual he was having terrible time getting Mickey out of his head. He wanted to know what they were doing. Was Mickey actually having fun? Was he realizing Drew could give him a life Ian probably never could? Drew was probably looking at Mickey the way Ian knew he himself did. He wondered if Drew’s heart skipped a beat when Mickey looked up at him through his long thick eyelashes, those winter blue eyes looking into his soul and piercing him like a sword. Could Drew get the laugh that came from Mickey that made Ian smile wide? Ian had only heard it a handful of times but every time he fell harder and harder.

And to think of them doing anything else…well that twisted Ian’s stomach into a million tight knots.

He missed Mickey, he wanted Mickey and he could not wait until he could finally call Mickey his.

Only if he didn’t lose him first.

He had to come up with a plan. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of going on like this. Waiting. Watching. Pretending to be fine when things really weren’t. They were stuck in this merry-go-round with no way off unless Ian or Mickey took a risk.

Ian tapped his head against his forearms, struggling to think of a solution. He could go up now and just tell Olivia everything and see what would happen but he couldn’t just go without talking it through with Mickey first. They had to come up with a plan and unfortunately Ian knew no matter what they decided to do there would be consequences.

The other thing was… deep in the pit of Ian’s stomach, gnawing at him bit by bit was the underling fear that right now Drew was falling for Mickey, (which Ian couldn’t blame him) or worse yet, that Mickey was falling for Drew.

He wanted to believe that Mickey was doing it all for the good of the show and the good for them but in a place like this, a beautiful place where love was just bound to happen, who could be so sure?

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey let out a slow steady exhale, watching the smoke from this mouth quickly evaporated into the clear night sky.  He was never one to call himself a pussy but he here he was standing outside of the building  he was staying in and  trying to make himself go in and face Ian.

Drew had left to go to his own suite a half an hour ago and that’s about the amount of time Mickey had been standing out there trying to talk himself into walking into the penthouse.

He wasn’t going to fucking lie, he’d had fun today. He never had any desire to learn how to fish but he found himself enjoying the sun, the breeze coming off the boat, the way the fish pulled on his line and the satisfaction he earned getting one and letting it go back into its home after he had caught it.

However, while those moments were enjoyable, the events after that became more odd throughout the day.. There was a moment when Drew became too handsy for Mickey’s liking. Mickey squirmed in place as he recalled Drew's hand going south on Mickey's thigh. Mickey had been smooth and intertwined their fingers, making it look romantic and shit for the cameras but then Drew tried again and Mickey had to back up. Drew was cool about it, respectful and gentlemanly and all that but it just felt weird and made Mickey crave freckled hands and green eyes even more.

And then there was dinner.

Mickey knew he sucked at opening up to people. He had been building a stone castle with twenty foot walls surrounding it around his heart since he was little. It was the only way to survive in the environment he’d grown up in.I It was the only way to survive his father.

So he wasn’t surprised Drew wanted him to open up more. It wasn’t easy, especially when a fat fuck with a camera was on you the whole time, and he was not about to share shit about his past when he hadn’t even told Ian half of it. None the less he tried. He tried to tell Drew about his photography, his sister, his life in New York in general, but every time he attempted Drew would interrupt him to tell him about his time spent in New York, or how his sister was going to Yale, or how he knew “actual photographers” (his exact words) that he could easily set Mickey up with to “further” his portfolio.

Mickey found himself getting more and more irritated as the night went on. He didn’t need anyone else to help “further” his career. He was already doing that on his own and so far things were pretty damn great. He had almost cringed when Drew said he really felt like he was getting to know the real Mickey at the end of the night because the guy didn’t know him at all and something was telling Mickey that Drew didn’t really want to.

So if he had such a strange time why was he being a fucking pussy and taking his merry old time going in? Something was telling him Ian was staying up waiting for him. Probably with a damn sandwich. Which to be honest sounded fantastic right now. He wishes he could personally apologize to the chef who took his damn time making their surf and turf tonight. It looked delicious but they weren’t allowed to eat it.

He took one last drag of his cigarette before stomping it out and forced himself to go through the door.

Sure enough Ian was waiting for him. He was in one of the oversized chairs in the living room trying to look casual as fuck but Mickey didn’t miss the flashes of worry then relief that swam over the younger man’s face.

“Hey,” Mickey greeted, trying to sound casual himself.

“Hey,” Ian replied, scratching the back of his neck. “How was your date?”

Mickey sighed and looked around the vast room. He had scoped out the hidden cameras throughout the penthouse last night and this morning. Whoever had placed them did a shitty job for a show that had been on for twenty something seasons. Mickey had known for a fact that they weren’t any cameras on the patio that was off the living room. Glancing at the sliding glass doors and then back at Ian, (who was watching him with anxious eyes, picking at the sleeve of his sweatshirt) he began to make his way over to the glass sliding doors. It was risky because someone could potentially wake up and see them there but he didn’t give a damn at this point. He needed to see Ian. Alone.

“Come and have a smoke with me,” Mickey said over his shoulder.

“I don’t smoke,” Ian shot back, his voice adorably confused.

“C'mon _Ian,”_ Mickey ordered, sliding the glass door and glaring back at t confused dumb ass.

Finally, Ian understood and Mickey had to chuckle at the look on Ian’s face when the metaphorical light bulb went off in his head. He already felt lighter and less weighed down just by being in Ian’s presence. Maybe that’s why it felt so bad, so wrong tonight with Drew. Mickey motioned Ian to go at the furthest corner of the patio where no light was illuminating. The redhead went obediently, glancing at Mickey twice before making his way down there.

“So,” began Ian crossing his arms as he leaned against the iron rod railing, “How’d it go?”

Mickey shrugged, disappointed that Ian was getting straight to the point but he should have expected nothing less. “It went okay, starting to see why I never got in a relationship with those North side fucks back home.”

That made Ian laugh which was music to Mickey’s ears. The redhead let out a breathy sigh then looked down at his feet. Shaking his head.

“Hey,” Mickey said, concern eating at him as he stepped closer. He reached out and trailed his two fingers down the length of the taller man’s freckled arms. “What’s up?”

Ian shook his head, “Nothing I just thought… it’s stupid.”

“You’ve had no problem with saying stupid shit before,” Mickey laughed half-heartedly. “C'mon spit it out.”

Ian sighed. “I kinda freaked out today… I just thought, I don’t know a part of me just thought maybe this was the day ya know? The day that maybe you’ll realize you’re better off with him than with me.”

It stung at Mickey’s heart a little. To hear those words coming from Ian even though less then fourty eight hours ago he put his heart on the line, told Ian he was all in. Ian had said he was all in too. How could have it have already changed?

“What makes you fucking think that?” Mickey asked, his voice a little more rough then he intended but he couldn’t help it. He was doing his best to keep his irritation at bay as it spiked within him, tapping at him like a dull pencil in the back of his head. “Ian. I told you you got nothing to worry about.”

He watched Ian’s Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. The redhead did his best to keep his face stony but he couldn’t fool Mickey; his eyes told a different story. “I know. I know. I told you it was stupid.”

Yeah,” Mickey huffed, reaching out and rubbing the back of Ian’s head. It is stupid but-”, He bit down on his lower lip as he backed away. Rubbing his face with his other hand, Mickey looked away from Ian as the words he wanted to say remained heavy on his tongue. How could Ian not know that he wanted it to be him he was on some fucking romantic boat ride with. That it was him he wanted to spend a fucking day on the beach with. He wanted to be able to give Ian everything he deserved and more.

He looked back up at Ian who was now looking over railing, shaking his head in defeat. “It’s just hard. Seeing you with him, going off with him-“

“I didn’t have a choice in that!” hissed Mickey trying his best to not yell and wake everybody up. “I didn’t fucking ask to go on a date with him and neither will you!” He felt a slight prickle behind his eyes as he quickly pressed his palms up to his eyes. Taking a deep breath he finally muttered, “this is so fucked up.”

“I know we don’t have a choice,” Ian finally said after a moment of silence between the two of them, “it’s just that this whole pretending thing is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

The pesky fluttering insects that took flight whenever Ian was around had quit flapping their wings, leaving a feeling of dread in their place. “Are you saying you want to stop?” he asked taking another step back from Ian.

“No!” Ian yelled, to the point where somebody was probably stirring from the inside but Mickey didn’t care. They could come out and see this for all he cared at the moment.

“No, Mickey,” Ian repeated, softer this time. He took a step forward while Mickey remained in place. “I don’t want this to stop. This… whatever this is. I’m not stopping. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you don’t trust me,” Mickey jabbed. “You don’t trust me to know I fucking meant what I said! I’m doing what I have to do Ian!”

“I do trust you,” Ian muttered quietly, looking down at his socked feet then back up at Mickey. “It’s hard knowing someone is out there that can give you everything you wanted and I can’t. I just - can’t.”

Mickey glared at the redhead in disbelief. “You actually fucking think I care about Drew’s money? You really think that shit matters to me?” He’s trying his best to keep quiet but the frustration that had been building for the past few days was reaching the breaking point. “Fuck haven’t you been paying attention? How the fuck can you not see that I'm-” Mickey stilled. His heart hammered inside his chest. If it was from the anger building inside of him or almost slipping and saying something he may regret later he wasn’t sure.

Ian took a step forward and Mickey stayed in his spot looking up at the taller man as Ian looked at him with hope and something else. Something that made Mickey feel safe and warm… something he never was really used to until he met Ian.

“Ian,” Mickey breathed, steadying himself. He paused as he swiped his lower lip with his thumb. “I don’t want Drew’s money, and I’m not fucking falling for him or anything else that you want to put in your head. How can I when-” he swiped his tongue as he looked away, exhaling. “Fuck.”

Ian took a step forward, then another, closing the distance Mickey had put in-between them. He hesitated as he put his arm out, close enough to touch Mickey’s arm but not quite. Mickey stepped forward giving Ian permission to touch him. Ian wrapped his hand gently around Mickey’s wrist.

“How can you what?” Ian asked, moving even closer. Mickey might have moved closer as well because he could almost count the freckles on Ian’s nose.

Mickey inhaled then exhaled deeply as he looked over the railing then back at Ian. “I-fuck-Ian…” He wasn’t any good at saying his feelings when he wanted to. It always got lodged up in his throat. He took another breath, “It’s fucking hard to fall for someone else when…you’re…I’m…fuck man I’m not any good at this shit.”

Ian smiled at him and it all but melted Mickey. He felt his body be pulled into Ian’s, the other man’s long arms around his waist holding him and staring at him like he was the damn stars or something.

“I know,” Ian said softly, pulling Mickey in so they were chest to chest. “And me too Mick.”

Mickey laughed before allowing Ian’s lips to meet his own. The fucking moths or whatever had sprung back to life, flying chaotically in the pit of his stomach.

Ian _knew._ He didn’t have to tell him because the fucker knew him. In only matter of weeks the ginger idiot knew him better than most people did. It scared the fuck out of him but it also felt good. Really good.He reached up and kissed Ian hard, a thank you for understanding him.

“Sorry for freaking out,” Ian whispered into Mickey’s hair.

“It’s okay,” Mickey replied, brushing Ian’s neck with his fingertips. “I think I might have to if it was me.”

“We can’t keep doing this. Freaking out every time we go somewhere with Drew. We gotta do something Mick.”

“Like what?” Mickey asked, releasing himself from Ian’s hold to look up at him.

“I don’t know,” shrugged Ian. “I’ll think of something though.”

Mickey nodded, he would think too. There had to be some way of getting off this show without a lot of back lash. He glanced back at Ian as another smaller wave of annoyance rushed through him. He playfully smacked Ian’s arm, maybe a little harder than he meant to.

“Ow, fuck what was that for?” Ian groaned, rubbing his arm.

Mickey chuckled and rested his arms on the railing looking at the bay area. He gave Ian a sidelong glance before shaking his head.

“For thinking I’d actually suddenly fall head over fucking heels or whatever for Drew.”

Ian shrugged while mirroring Mickey, leaning up against the railing. “I could say the same for you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You ever think, like, if the circumstances were different or something, if we were us but different we would find each other?”

Ian let out a mock gasp, propping his head up, elbow resting on the railing. “Does Mickey of all people, believe in fate?”

Mickey bumped Ian with his hip, “Fuck you. Never mind.”

Ian shrugged and Mickey had to look away from him to avoid the blush that was creeping up his neck. Ian was looking at him _that way_ again and Mickey was trying his damndest to keep his composure even though he was spewing shit about destiny or whatever. He should have known Ian would eat it up. Maybe he wanted that.

“I think I would have fallen for any version of you Mickey,” Ian said. He didn’t whisper it. Not even a stutter. It was as clear as day and Mickey was sure his stomach did fifty flips in a row. Now he knew he was fucking blushing.

“Fuck off with that shit,” Mickey muttered doing his best to cover his inevitable smile by rubbing his hands down his face. He dared to look at Ian whose eyes were dark but still puppy like. The dumbass was going to be the end of him but he was more than willing to go in head first.

“C’mere,” Mickey demanded, tugging at the string of Ian’s hoodie, he wrapped his hands around Ian’s neck as he pulled him down for a kiss.

Their lips trailed over each other as they broke apart. Ian went for another one but Mickey back away a impish grin spread across his face.

“C’mon firecrotch. I’m fucking hungry and if I remember correctly you make a pretty decent PB and J.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I hope it’s Jerry that goes home,” Kyle announced taking a sip of his IPA. “If I hear him complain about the damn sheets in our room one more time…”

“You’ll what?” Mickey asked, squinting in annoyance at the blonde. “Spray him to death with your hairspray?”

“Good god. If you only knew how much hairspray the two of them use combined, they could create another hole in our damn atmosphere with it,” Theo piped in.

Ian felt a soft tap on his calf as he leaned briefly to the touch of Mickey’s foot. All of them were chilling out by the pool again. It was their fourth day here and the week was coming to an end. Every once in a while the crew came out and filmed them lounging but other than that they left the contestants alone. The main crew was out on the two on one date.

It was Jerry and Grant who got picked to go on that date. It was another anticlimactic two on one date so none of the men were really bothered by it. Ian was shocked it wasn’t someone like Kyle and Jerry or hell Kyle and anyone else. Clearly Drew and the producers wanted Kyle to stay on; much to the other contestant’s misfortune.

If Ian had to choose someone to go he would choose Grant. Simply because he was one of Kyle’s two minions so if Kyle had one less follower maybe he would step down from his fucking high horse. Doubt it though because he had his big head to keep him afloat. But one could only hope.

“Kyle, leave Jerry alone. Don’t you ever just shut the fuck up?” Nick snapped.

“Excuse me?” Kyle sneered. “No one asked you.”

“So sick of your shit,” Ian heard Nick mutter. Ian peaked through his sunglasses to the guy to his right. Nick had been pacing around all day, which would have been considered normal since he was never one to sit still, but his typical goofy demeanor had been replace with rigidness and unease.

“Dude, have a drink, “Theo said, attempting to hand Nick a beer but the man pushed it away.

“No thanks. I’m good.”

“What’s a matter Nicky? Worried your new bestie will be sent home? He’ll probably send himself home; no way the guy is going to last crawling through a jungle with those white pants he was wearing this morning.”

“Enough!” Theo yelled putting his hands between the two men.

Nick was fuming, his ears a dark red and his breathing heavy. He shot Kyle a death glare before stomping off, muttering something about going back to the room.

“The fuck was that about?” Ian asked.

“Nothing,” Theo said quickly as he watched Nick leave. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“You do that,” Mickey replied, glancing over at Ian, “Want to get more to drink? The air is a little too stuffy here. Must be all the hair spray.”

Ian laughed and followed Mickey to the bar leaving a lone Kyle in their wake.

After another hour of sunbathing and swimming the contestants were called to one of the penthouses for a meeting. No doubt to see who would be the one to go home today.

“Got your game face on?” Ian asked as they made their way up the path.

“Oh yeah,” quipped Mickey. “Gotta get ready for my shocked face, I fucking swear man our faces are gonna freeze like that if we keep doing it.”

 

* * *

 

 

They all gathered around the main living space of the suite. The crew was running around wiping off the men off with towels, adding hair spray, or making them dry off so they could look perfect for the cameras.

In the corner Ian could see Chris Harrison read a note card out loud over and over in different ways while some chick blended his foundation to his neck. Olivia was yelling at a crew member for the lighting be too cool in the room or something and then there was Nick who looking worse for wear. His shirt was untucked from his pants after one of the crew members deliberately told him twice to tuck it back in, his wavy ash brown hair was sticking up in several spots and he kept glancing at the door.

“The fucks up with him?” Mickey asked taking his spot in the tufted chair next to Ian.

“Fuck knows,” shrugged Ian. “He’s been acting weird lately.”

“Haven’t noticed. Always thought he was a weirdo.”

Ian rolled his eyes as he huffed out a laugh, “You think everyone is weird Mick.”

“Yeah, What about it Red?”

Ian was about to whisper something flirtatious into Mickey’s ear before he was interrupted by Oliva.

“Okay contestants! Gather around!” bellowed the perky blonde. “Now this is just like last time but this time the contestant who makes it will be coming in! We’ve already packed and sent the suitcases of the guy going home into the limo.”

“Wouldn’t even let me see…” Ian heard Nick mutter. He glanced over the couch at the guy. Something was up but Ian had no idea what.

There was a sudden knock at the door and the whole room became silent. Olivia walked over to the door and cracked it just enough so only she could peer out. She whispered something then shut the door. She then looked back at the men, “Okay guys talk amongst yourselves.” Signaling the cameras to start rolling she made her way into the kitchen and out of sight.

The men did as they were told and bullshited around. Usually at this time Nick would start speaking nonsense or tell Ian or Theo stupid facts about anything and everything but the typically outgoing man remained silent. Eyes glued to the door.

Then the knock came again.

Ian and the other contestants twisted their heads around to the door as the key card slot clicked open.

“Jerry!” Theo yelled. “My man!”

Jerry came through the door, looking like he had gone through a jungle but not as bad as Ian thought. His pants only had a few bits of dirt on them and the glowing smile on his face was contagious.

“Damnit!” Kyle yelled as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Thank god one more down,” Michael K said as he toasted Jerry with his drink.

“I’m just as surprised as all of you,” laughed Jerry, his eyes flickering around to everyone,  his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree on someone but Ian couldn’t tell exactly who.

“Glad it was you that got to stay, “Nick said, his shoulders relaxed and half of his face taken up by his own cheesy grin. Ian stared at the two in bewilderment wondering when and how they became friends.

“Yeah, yeah me too,” Jerry sighed, rubbing his neck bashfully. “But I really have to get rid of these pants now. No way I’ll ever get the stains out.”

“Well go fucking change your pants then let’s party!” yelled Michael K rushing to the kitchen to get the booze that had already been laid out for them.

There were smiles all around (except for Kyle and Dustin who had their tails between their legs the whole time) and boozed being passed around. Ian smiled at Mickey who in return gave him the finger as he took his own shot of tequila.

Yeah things were good and Ian knew if they could do this, get away with this, things would be even better.

 

* * *

 

 

Olivia rolled her neck back and forth, trying desperately to rub away the kink in her neck that had been there for at least three days now. She pressed play again on one of her monitors trying to find out which part of the footage they had gotten this week would be the best screen grab. Someone else should be doing this job but everyone was already over worked and over tired. The tropical sun was draining everyone and the traveling crews were not the easiest to work with, so, here she was.

She blinked rapidly at the monitor trying to focus on what was happening in front of her. It was Kyle and Mickey going at each other. The two bad boys of the show but only one was taking the crown as the “villain”. Fans already loved Mickey. They released the brief summaries of all the contestants earlier this week and so far Theo, Michael K, Mickey and Ian, (of course, her own personal favorite) were getting the most attention. She smiled smugly at Kim who read the article with pursed lips and a blank stare. She had wanted Theo and Mickey off the show weeks ago but Olivia knew Drew would want to keep them around. Turns out she was right.

She scribbled a note on her notepad to remind herself to tell the editor to add Kyle’s arrogant comments into the main trailer for the show, which would be airing next week. She hit fast forward to later in the evening. There wasn’t much else besides an excellent shot of Drew and Michael K making out at the head of the yacht. The roaring sunset blazing in the distance, it was perfect and too good not to use. She continued on and made more notes as the footage rolled but as time went on she kept glancing back at her notes and sighed.

Something was missing. She just wasn’t sure what. She needed something that would shake up the bachelor, something that would make him second guess his stay here. So far the guys have been too nice this season. Sure, there was Kyle and his flair for the dramatics. He had no problem shaking things up, but she needed someone or something _new_ to shake things up. They tried with Mickey but much to everyone else’s surprise Kim’s plan of “breaking him” did not work. Which pleased Olivia. She hadn’t been a fan of Mickey at first but anyone who could pull through Kim’s harsh antics was okay in her book. Also he and Drew did have pretty good chemistry so he was worth keeping until the fire burned out. Then there was Ian but he was set to be in the final four so he was untouchable for now.

She let out an aggravated sigh into the dark empty room and pressed play on some footage from the hidden camera’s they had placed around the resort the first night of being here, hoping to find something, anything.

There was the ordinary stuff of Kyle bickering with one of the contestants over God knows what. If Drew didn’t like him so much Olivia would have dropped him two weeks ago but he made good TV. She fast forwarded some more to only watch a whole fifteen seconds of Dustin picking his nose and analyzing it. Gross.

There was Michael K taking a dip in the pool which she played, rewund and played again. She couldn’t help herself, the guy was total eye candy. As she got closer to the night she played back the yacht party one more time and then back to the hidden camera footage just to make sure she didn’t miss anything.

That was when she noticed them, just at the outer edge of a hidden camera. It was a blink-and-you-miss it moment. If they had been another inch or two to the left it would have remained a private moment. She gasped as she hit rewind, making sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Her eyebrows cocked as she let out a hysterical laugh.

 She couldn’t believe it and she would’ve never guessed. She had just stumbled upon something that would make this season's highlight reel. Hell it might make one of the top 5 scandals of the entire Bachelor history.

She leaned in closer to the monitor, a wicked grin forming on her face. This was gold, pure gold and it was just what she had been looking for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Backs away slowly*
> 
> *Bachelors remaining as of now*  
> Ian, Mickey, Kyle, Theo, Micheal K, Jerry, Dustin, Nick

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudo and a comment below. I will try my best to update every other week.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Ally.


End file.
